


Who We Have to Be

by xTimexTurnerx



Category: Divergent - All Media Types, The 100 (TV)
Genre: AU- Divergent setting, Action, Attempted Sexual Assault, Crossover, Drama, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Romance, Sexual Assault, Sexual Content, Teacher Bellamy, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-24
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2020-10-27 08:50:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 51,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20757650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xTimexTurnerx/pseuds/xTimexTurnerx
Summary: Clarke is a Dauntless initiate trying to survive the the brutal training of her new faction. If she can master fighting and weaponry, maybe she'll be good enough to evade the capture of the faction government who is set on eliminating the Divergent population.Bellamy Blake has only five fears, which makes him the most intimidating Dauntless trainer yet. Despite his family's checkered past, he has risen through the ranks to be a respected and feared member of society.When Clarke arrives at the Dauntless compound, she resurfaces secrets Bellamy wants to keep hidden. Their only protection from the corrupt faction government is each other.[Bellarke in the Divergent universe]





	1. Berry Pink

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there! I'm so excited to begin my first crossover fic. The idea popped into my head and I pre-wrote 20,000 words in two days! I'm excited for two of my favorite dystopias to collide. 
> 
> Some notes about fic content:  
\- I've tried to include expository information about the Divergent world in the fanfic to make it easy to understand if you have never seen/read the Divergent series. The Divergent wiki is an excellent resource if you have specific questions!  
\- This fic will primarily follow Clarke, and will include plot lines with characters other than Bellamy. However, this is focused on Clarke/ Bellamy.  
\- This fic does not directly follow the major plot points of either universe. The beginning chapters will closely mirror the Divergent (book 1), but will quickly branch once initiation is complete.  
\- I will update tags/ ratings as I continue to write. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

Clarke’s younger sister, Madi, was the only one she felt wholly comfortable around. The rest of Clarke’s life was full of disappointment and obligation. 

“Come on, Clarke.” Madi skipped in front of her and wove through bushes and low branches with ease. She almost looked like some type of woodland nymph traversing her kingdom. 

Clarke rolled her eyes and kept her footsteps even; skipping was indulgent. Eventually, they found their way into the center of a clearing protected by the tops of trees. Sunlight filtered through the green leaves and made the small pond sparkle. In a few weeks, the leaves would be dead and rotting on its surface. 

“I found this place when I was playing tag with Joseph.” 

Clarke knew she should reprimand her sister-- Abnegation children didn’t play tag. They didn’t play at all, really. If Madi was playing tag, it meant she was spending time on something she enjoyed rather than serving others, which went directly against Abnegation values. But Clarke herself didn’t buy into her faction’s customs, how could she expect Madi to? “It’s beautiful.” 

Madi smiled under Clarke’s compliment and knelt next to a berry bush. “Look at this shade of pink, have you ever found one so bright? It would look so good on you!” Madi ripped off a small branch of berries and held it up to Clarke’s golden hair. 

Clarke shook her head and gently pushed Madi’s hand down. “You know we can’t put colors in our hair again.” Their mother, Abigail, had been furious the previous summer when the girls came home smeared with blue streaks. 

“But it washes right out! It’s just for the night!” 

Clarke took the branch out of Madi’s hand. “Sorry, Madi. Not with my test tomorrow, I can’t risk it.” 

Madi pouted, but didn’t press the issue further. Instead she collapsed on the forest floor, dragging Clarke down with her. They laid head to head, each fitting into the other’s neck like pieces of the same puzzle. “What do you think the test will say?” 

Clarke wasn’t sure. The Abnegation lifestyle was stifling to her and she dreaded the idea of a life full of silence and restraint. But where else could she possibly fit? Clarke doubted she was smart enough for Erudite, nor was she naturally hungry to learn. She didn’t think she was kind enough for Amity and lying came too naturally for her to fit in at Candor. 

The only other faction was Dauntless. The Dauntless were the protectors of their city, the reckless and dangerous. Clarke envied their free shrieks and hollers each morning as they jumped off the train to school. But was she brave enough to fit in their ranks? 

“I don’t know.” 

Madi thought for a moment. “It’s okay for you to transfer factions, you know.” 

Clarke turned to her sister. “Why do you say that?”

Madi shrugged. “I want you to be happy, and I don’t think you’re happy here.” 

“But then I couldn’t see you,” Clarke reminded her. _ Faction before blood, _ was their motto. If Clarke changed factions, its members would become her new family and she would have to leave her old family behind. 

“In three years I’ll be a faction member and then we can see each other,” Madi said confidently. Clarke knew Madi didn’t belong at Abnegation, but her uniqueness was brighter than Clarke’s. Clarke could see Madi thriving wherever she went. 

“You’re right,” Clarke lied. “We would see each other again.” 

* * *

When Madi and Clarke made it home, dinner was being placed on the table. It was their father’s turn to cook and Clarke’s turn to clean. The household chores were performed by the four of them on a rotating schedule, everyone pitching in to serve each other. 

“Where were you two?” Abigail asked with stern eyes. It was uncommon for their parents to ask Clarke or Madi questions during dinner. In Abnegation, dinner time was reserved for Jake and Abigail to speak while Clarke and Madi listened. After dinner, Jake and Abigail listened to their daughters; even the social interactions were equitable in Abnegation. 

“I took Clarke on a walk in the woods, seeing how she might be leaving in two days I wanted to spend more time with her.” Madi started eating her peas as if this truth wasn’t uncomfortable for the rest of the family. _ Maybe Madi would excel in Candor _, Clarke thought. 

Initiates were not supposed to discuss their aptitude tests or choices outside of the Choosing Ceremony, so Abigail pursed her lips and turned her attention to her husband. “How was work today?” 

Clarke’s father worked at an aid station that fed and clothed the factionless. Clarke volunteered there once a week. The dirty and haggard faces of the factionless were a terrifying reminder of the consequences for not fitting into the faction system. 

“Even the factionless are hearing negative rumors about Abnegation,” Jake said. “The Erudite are trying to cause a disturbance.” 

The Erudite faction were full of researchers, scientists and doctors. However, the faction had long since harbored a grudge about their lack of role in government. All voting government members were from Abnegation to ensure selfless power. 

“Yes, my last couple of visits there have been tense,” Abigail muttered considerately. Clarke was unsure if her mom was trying to appease her dad and seem empathetic, or if tensions between the two factions were as bad as they seemed. Abigail was an Abnegation leader who primarily served as a diplomat with the Erudites. Abigail herself was an Erudite growing up, but had chosen Abnegation as her faction for life during her own Choosing Ceremony. 

Clarke had no interest in government and didn’t want to follow in her mother’s footsteps, which would be expected if she remained in Abnegation. _ Yet another reason to transfer… _

After dinner Clarke washed each dish slowly, not wanting to talk in the living room with her family. She recognized not wanting to share communication with them was selfish, but then again, she had never been a perfect faction member. 

When Clarke finished and entered the living room, only Abigail remained. “Your sister seemed tired, so I let those two retire. I wanted to stay in case there was anything on your mind to discuss before tomorrow.” 

That was her mother: Abnegation to the core. Clarke was unsure how Abigail could have possibly grown up Erudite. She tried to picture her mom in bright blue clothes but failed; she would always see Abigail in somber gray tones with her hair twisted in a tight knot. 

“I don’t think so,” Clarke sighed. “I just wish I knew what to expect.” 

Abigail’s lips pursed into a thin line. “You’ll go through a simulation that will help you narrow your choices to see which faction you belong in.” 

Clarke knew this already, that much of the aptitude test was common knowledge. “Which faction do you think I belong in, mom?” The words were out of her mouth before Clarke could help herself. 

Abigail’s shrewd eyes softened. “My dear Clarke, I think you belong wherever your heart tells you to go. All I want in this life is you and Madi’s happiness.” 

Clarke’s throat thickened with emotion. “Thanks, mom. I’m going to go to bed.” She left the room before she could embarrass herself with a display of emotion unbecoming to Abnegation. 

* * *

“Are you nervous?” Clarke’s lifelong friend, Wells Jaha, walked beside her to the bus stop. Wells’ father, Thelonius Jaha, was an Abnegation government official with Abigail. Thelonius served as the ambassador to Amity, the kind and peaceful faction who harvested most of their food and livestock. 

“Are you?” Clarke challenged. 

Wells arched his eyebrow. “Nah, I don’t think so. I’ve known I don’t fit in here for a long time. I’m just ready to find somewhere I do. Although, I wish I could stay here with you.” 

Clarke kept her face front, but still caught the wistful glance Wells shot her way. Clarke’s walls were too high to let someone close to her, even someone she had known them her whole life. Wells was funny and handsome, but Clarke felt unnatural when he spoke so plainly. Clarke wondered if he felt a pull toward Candor. It was interesting Wells assumed she would stay in Abnegation…

“What if I’m not here?” Clarke said quietly. 

Wells stopped walking and turned to her. “You don’t think your test will come back Abnegation?” 

“Do you?”

“I don’t know, Clarke. You’re always doing things for others, and you’re… reserved enough. I thought you would want to stay here.” 

The bus arrived at that moment and Clarke was glad to drop the subject. The Abnegation section of the city was comprised of identical square, gray one-story houses. As they moved to the city center, buildings rose and stretched toward the sky with glinting glass and sharp metal. Some had been too badly damaged in the Great War and remained vacant, but others were lit with activity. 

Wells continued chatting about his expectations for the test and Clarke let her mind drift. They exited the bus with their fellow initiates dressed in bright yellows and red, Amity colors. The Erudite and Candor were already lined up outside of the testing center, living in the city themselves. 

Once Clarke and Wells were able to stand with their faction, a train whistle blew and Clarke knew the Dauntless were approaching. Their train never came to a full stop, but the Dauntless jumped regardless. Most easily landed on their feet or rolled like small bugs before springing up, laughing. They dressed in rough edges and black, most sporting colored hair or dark makeup. Clarke’s eyes stayed on them until she was shuffled inside along with the rest of the Abnegation youth. 

A dark-skinned woman with short hair stood before the crowd. She had a beautiful tattoo framing her right eye, while deep scars danced across the left half of her face. Clarke wondered how many battles she had seen. “My name is Indra, I will be one of your test administrators today, along with several other Dauntless and Erudite leaders.” 

Abnegation administered the aptitude test to all other factions, volunteering to do so to serve the community. However, Abnegation was not allowed to administer the test to their own. 

“You will remain in this hall until your name is called and you will exit out of the back. You are to speak to no one about your results. Your choices will be known tomorrow at the ceremony. Any questions?” 

No one raised their hand. Her lips curled into a half smile. “Good, let’s begin.” 

Indra called the first alphabetical name and took a scared looking boy into the room with her. A moment later a man in a blue suit and glasses called out the next name. A Dauntless man with an eyebrow piercing took the third initiate. An Erudite woman took the fourth. Indra emerged again and called a new name. Clarke wondered which administrator she would be paired with. 

There seemed to be no set time the test took, other officials emerging out of order at random times, always calling the next on the list. 

“Clarke Griffin.” Indra read off her name and Clarke was dimly aware of climbing to her feet. Wells squeezed her limp hand before she staggered forward into the next room. The room was smaller than she imagined, and all white. One singular chair sat in the middle, along with monitors and equipment that reminded Clarke of a medical bay. 

“Sit.” Clarke did as she was told, smoothing her gray skirts over her legs once she was situated. “I will be injecting a serum into you that will create a simulation of choices. The simulation will continue until an aptitude for one faction above all others is shown. Do you have any questions?”

Clarke shook her head and tried to still her nervous fingers. She clasped her hands together in her lap and flinched when the sharp needle poked into her neck. The testing room disappeared. Clarke was standing in an empty, vast place where walls weren’t visible. 

“Choose.” The voice floated into Clarke’s head and immediately two pedestals appeared. One had a block of cheese, the other a knife. Clarke’s eyebrows furrowed, _ why did she need to choose? Was she about to be simulated to be hungry or scared? _ Clarke reached both her hands forward and grasped the block of cheese in one and the knife in her other. 

The pedestals disappeared. A growling erupted behind her and Clarke turned to see a snarling dog, close to the appearance of a wolf. His eyes were beady and fixed on the food in her hand. Clarke threw the cheese far away from herself and the dog chased after it. 

“What a cute dog!” Clarke’s blood froze. Before turning, Clarke already knew whose voice it was. Madi stood with her arms extended, long brown hair loose around her shoulders. The dog dropped the wedge of cheese and started running full speed toward Clarke’s sister. 

She couldn’t think, she couldn’t breath. Clarke lunged forward and plunged the knife into the dog’s back and pushed until yelps pierced the air. The dog sunk through the floor. Madi and the knife vanished.

Suddenly, Clarke was outside in Abnegation. Wells stood before her in his identical yard, smiling despite the fact he was holding a gun to his own head. “Clarke. If you tell me you love me, I’ll put the gun down.” The alternative was unspoken but obvious: If she told him the truth he would die. 

Clarke gasped, this was sick. She rushed forward and put her hands on his biceps. His expression didn’t change. “Wells I love you. I love you so much. Put the gun down.” 

Wells dropped the gun but she never heard it hit the floor, instead she was back in the testing room. Indra was inches away from her face, her brown eyes studying Clarke’s blue. Clarke was breathing heavily, fingernails digging into her palm hard enough to leave little half-crescents pressed into her skin. 

“What was that supposed to tell me?” Clarke voice was slightly hysterical and Indra didn’t move. Clarke rubbed her eyes to stop the pinprick of tears begging to fall. 

“Clarke, your results were inconclusive.” Clarke dropped her hands and looked at Indra for a sign of jest. Her tone let Clarke know Indra wasn’t kidding. 

“What do you mean _ inconclusive _? The test is supposed to tell us where we belong.”

Indra gripped Clarke’s arm hard. “I know. I was only able to limit you to three possibilities. You refused to choose between the cheese and knife, which ruled out an aptitude for Erudite: they make decisions quickly. Choosing the cheese kept you in line for Abnegation or Amity, while choosing the knife kept you a contender for Dauntless. I had to force the simulation to produce something to test your inclination toward Candor, which you failed. Candor value the truth above all else. You lying to protect your friend’s life also contributed to the possibility of Abnegation.” 

Clarke’s mouth hung open. The air felt so thick she could choke on it. “So I could be Abnegation… or Dauntless… or Amity.” 

Indra’s eyes were wide. “Having an aptitude for more than one faction is called,” she looked over her shoulder as if she expected someone to be listening, “Divergent. And being Divergent is dangerous. You need to go home, don’t talk to anyone. You cannot tell anyone about this result, Clarke. Not your parents or your friends. I’m going to manually plug in Abnegation and as far as anyone is concerned, that is your result.” 

A million questions sprung to Clarke’s mind, but Indra was already pushing her to the door. The last thing Indra said was, “Be smart.” 

Clarke knew Wells was the next alphabetically and she should wait for her friend before heading home, but after the simulation the thought of seeing him again made Clarke sick. Plus, she needed time to think. The test only confirmed one thing for Clarke: she didn’t fit in anywhere. She was equally Abnegation as she was two other factions. How could that be possible?

_ Divergent _, her mind recalled. Clarke rolled the word around in her brain and tried to remember anything she heard throughout her life that sounded similar to the situation she was in. Clarke’s father administered the aptitude test every year and she never heard him mention a candidate being Divergent. 

Clarke desperately wished she could talk to her dad about this and see if it was possible to have a serum failure. Maybe Clarke needed to take the test again and it would work the second time. Maybe she was meant to belong in a faction and this was all a mistake. 

In her heart she knew it wasn’t. The uneasy feeling her entire life was proof enough that Clarke didn’t wholly belong to Abnegation. She just didn’t expect not to belong _ anywhere _. Was she doomed to be like the factionless? Poor and hungry? Clarke quickened the pace of her steps. 

_ No. _ Clarke refused to be factionless. That meant she needed to make a choice and stick to it. No matter what her test results said, Clarke was determined to force herself to belong. She thought of rough wood that was sanded until it locked in place to form a chair. That’s all she needed to do: Clarke needed to shave off the Divergent bits of herself to fit into one, singular faction. 

The question was: which one should she choose? Clarke was relieved Candor wasn’t a choice because trying to keep a secret there was stupid. She wasn’t surprised about Erudite either: she longed to be active and do something more meaningful with her life than sit in a lab or read for hours a day. 

Maybe that was the key, think about what she would do daily. If Clarke chose Abnegation, she could easily follow in her mother’s footsteps and work for the government. Maybe her Divergence would make her a good representative for other factions. She couldn’t work with the factionless, not now that she knew how much she had in common with them.

If Clarke chose Amity, she would work outside in the fields all day. The Amity were so kind maybe they would forgive her if they found out she didn’t fully belong. 

If Clarke chose Dauntless, she would work on the wall or as part of a protection squad. The Dauntless acted first and asked questions never, maybe their impulsivity would keep her from discovery. 

Walking home took over an hour and the house was still empty when Clarke reached it. Clarke was grateful her parents removed her from the chores roster that evening. The night before one’s Choosing Ceremony was supposed to be reserved for contemplation, and Clarke had plenty to contemplate. 

At dinner Madi kept stealing glances at her older sister, wanting desperately to ask her about the aptitude test. Clarke was glad customs forbade her from doing so. 

“How did administration go today?” Abigail asked their father. 

Jake sighed and looked briefly at Clarke. “It went well. There was a problem with one of the tests though.” Clarke dropped her fork. “A candidate got sick and the administrator had to manually input the results.” 

“My,” Abigail said taking a bite of her mashed potatoes. “That’s unusual, isn’t it? Was it an Abnegation administrator?”

“No, she was a member of Dauntless.”

“Ah, there you have it. Our Dauntless friends don’t have as much testing experience. She must have incorrectly administered it.” The phrase wasn’t said unkindly; Abigail sounded like she wished to comfort the incompetant stranger. 

“I’m sure you’re right,” Jake said. Clarke felt his eyes on her until she asked to be excused. 

That night Clarke laid awake until she thought she would see the sunrise. When she was about to give up and get a glass of water, a faint knock sounded on her door. _ This is it. They already found out she was a damaged, misfit Divergent. They were here to cart her off to the nearest factionless alleyway. _

“Clarke?” Her dad’s soft voice carried behind the door and she sprung up to open it for him. 

“Dad?” 

Clarke stepped aside and Jake shut the door quietly behind them. It seemed so out of place for her dad to be in her room. Clarke couldn’t remember a time, other than when she was sick as a child, he visited her here before. Clarke turned on the small bedside lamp and waited for her father to speak. 

Jake’s eyes darted around the plain space before he crossed the room to gently touch Clarke’s shoulder. Any touch for the Abnegation was strange. “We need to be quick. Your test was inconclusive today, wasn’t it?” Clarke’s whole body sang for her to tell her father the truth, but she still remembered Indra’s words: _ You cannot tell anyone about this result, Clarke. Not your parents or your friends. _

“You don’t have to tell me, it’s okay. If it was inconclusive, you need to pick a faction where you feel like you can hide. There are people who would want to hurt you, to kill you, if they found out, Clarke.” 

Clarke’s voice was small and she looked at the ground instead of her father’s face. “Should I stay here?”

“Only if you think you can be a perfect Abnegation member. Whatever faction you choose, you need to blend in. You have to commit to their ways of life one hundred percent. You need to be beyond reproach, it’s the only way you’ll survive. I’m so sorry, Clarke. I never dreamed you would be in this position.” Jake embraced Clarke in a full hug and Clarke’s arms fell limply to her sides. She was too surprised by this conversation and close contact to react. 

“I wish we had more time, but I need to get back to your mother. Think, Clarke. Choose well.” Jake kissed Clarke on the forehead once and then he was gone.

* * *

Clarke had dark circles under her eyes the next day walking into the Choosing Ceremony. Looking around, she was glad to see she wasn’t the only one. Other initiates of various factions were straight-lipped and drawn faced. Clarke wondered briefly what it would be like to have _ one _faction result…

A strong, strikingly beautiful woman stood behind five large bowls in the center of the room. Each bowl contained a material representative of the five factions: coals for Dauntless, stones for Abnegation, glass for Candor, water for Erudite and soil for Amity. Each initiate would cut their hand and let the blood drip over their faction of choice. 

_ What would Clarke choose? _

The woman had a long, dark ponytail and is an impeccably cut blue dress; Clarke recognized her to be Becca, an Erudite leader. “Good morning, friends of all factions. Welcome to this year’s Choosing Ceremony, where each of our dependents will finally be able to voice their choice and become members of our symbiotic society. Those of you in Abnegation serve us selflessly in government. The Amity provide us nourishment both physically and spiritually with their crops and caretaking. The Candor study our laws to provide an honest justice system. The Erudite make advancements in science and technology, while those in Dauntless protect us from the terrors beyond the gate.” 

The sector of black-dressed people whooped and pumped their fists in the air at Becca’s remark. She continued with a tight smile. “The faction system keeps us safe from the vices of humanity: aggression, ignorance, duplicity, selfishness and cowardice. In order for peace to continue to reign, we all must find our place. When we find our faction, we find our family, we find our purpose. Today marks a happy day-- the day each of you find your new home.” 

The hall erupted into applause. Clarke’s hands stayed by her side, as did many of the Abnegations-- applause and praise were seen as vanity. 

“Let us begin at the end. Kyle Wick.” A tanned boy with long blonde hair swaggered down to the bowls. He was dressed in black pants and a leather jacket. He smiled as he cut his hand and his blood sizzled over the Dauntless coals. “Dauntless.” The crowd cheered for their own and he was welcomed back by several hugs and slaps on the back. 

“Maya Vie.” Clarke recognized Maya from school. Maya was a quiet, kind girl and Clarke was sure she would choose to stay in Abnegation. Maya took the knife she was offered and sliced her palm. For a moment her eyes darted between the Abnegation stones and Amity soil. She thrusted her hand out and the dark earth absorbed her blood. “Amity.” 

The Abnegation started a quiet murmur while the Amity stood to clap and welcome Maya. She is the first faction transfer. I craned my neck to look for Maya’s parents and saw her mother sobbing into the shoulder of her father. _Would Abigail cry if she left? _The ceremony did not stop to let people carry on conversation. Becca continued as if nothing unusual took place. Teenager after teenager stumbled to the bowls and Clarke bit the inside of her cheek until she could taste blood. 

“Wells Jaha.” The Jaha family was next to her and Clarke knew she would be called after her friend. Thelonius and Abigail smiled at each other, sharing a knowing grin. _ They think he’s staying in Abnegation. _

“Candor.” Alie announced Wells’ choice and he stumbled over to the sea of white and black. All the times Wells expressed his thoughts to Clarke, even when she was uncomfortable all made sense now. Clarke saw the crestfallen look on Thelonius’ face before Becca called her name. 

“Clarke Griffin.” Clarke staggered to her feet and Jake gripped her elbow to steady her before she made it to the aisle. The distance between her seat and the choosing bowls felt interminable. By the time she reached them, Clarke felt like several days had transpired. 

Becca’s red mouth turned into a toothless grin as she handed Clarke the shining knife. Clarke was distantly aware of the knife’s bite in her palm, but she was too distracted to pay it much mind. _ Was she kind? Was she altruistic? Was she brave? _Her eyes moved between the dirt and stones and coal at a rapid pace. 

Clarke wanted to scream to the whole room she was Divergent, she wasn’t any of these things-- but that wasn’t a choice. Clarke listened to her blood sizzle on the Dauntless coals. She would have to be daring to survive. She would either fit in at Dauntless or she would die trying. 

The noise from Dauntless reached a deafening crescendo. She was the only Abnegation transfer. Strangers enveloped her in a bone-crushing embrace and Clarke’s skin felt tight from the many hands slapping her on the back. Clarke looked back into the Abnegation crowd and found her parent’s faces. Abigail looked shocked, while Jake’s face was neutral. Madi though… Madi was smiling. Clarke’s heart lifted at the sight of her sister’s approval and thought maybe she chose correctly.

The room barely recovered before Becca called the next candidate. “Gaia Flame.” 

Gaia held her chin high like royalty as she made her way from the Dauntless row behind Clarke to the bowls. Clarke was taken by the contrast of her dark skin and short, bleached hair. Without hesitation, Gaia took the knife and held her hand over the Abnegation stones. The Dauntless faction cried out while Abnegation stood silently and bowed their heads as a sign of respect and welcoming for the new initiate. 

Clarke heard someone mutter “traitor” behind her and wedged her hands under her thighs to tighten her muscles and focus on something other than the room around her. 

Once the last candidate chose (Octavia Blake stayed in her Dauntless faction), Becca concluded the ceremony. Dauntless were the first to rush out of the room and sail across the pavement. Clarke let her feet fly underneath her, running for the first time in her life. The burn in her lungs seemed to erase the doubt from her mind and she felt _ free _. 

The train whistled in the distance. A girl in all blue jogging next to Clarke turned to her. “Do we have to jump on the train?” 

“I’m guessing yes,” another girl dressed in a long yellow dress with a burgundy sweater answered. 

The group of Dauntless-born initiates were ahead of all the transfers. When the train approached, each member jumped aboard like they were merely taking a step. Clarke pumped her legs until they too burned and threw herself sideways into the open car. 

Clarke’s jump landed her torso on the hard metal floor, but her legs dangled out of the car. A small hand gripped under her arm and lifted her in. 

“Thanks,” Clarke said breathlessly. Clarke recognized the girl as Octavia Blake, the final chooser. She had long dark hair with braids and small twists, creating the image that she had just emerged from water. There was dark charcoal smudged around her light brown eyes that Clarke took a moment to admire. No one in Abnegation owned any makeup.

Octavia grinned. “Not bad for a first time.” 

“I’m Clarke,” she held out her hand like she had watched other factions do and Octavia shook it enthusiastically. 

“It’s pretty ballsy to transfer from Abnegation.” 

Clarke shrugged. “I’m braver than I look, I guess.” 

“Good thing, because we’re about to jump.” Octavia stood up and Clarke scrambled beside her. They were deep in the city now, all the buildings were at least ten stories high. 

“Jump?” The Erudite girl asked incredulously. 

“What, did you think you’d be studying bravery?” The boy I recognized to be Kyle asked. She narrowed her eyes at him, but said nothing else. 

“On my count, yeah?” Octavia smiled at Clarke. “One, two, three!” Octavia sailed out of the car, across an empty space of nothingness until she rolled perfectly onto a rooftop. Clarke bit down the fear in her chest and pushed off the train floor to follow her. 

Jumping off the moving train and landing on the top of a building knocked the wind out of Clarke. While most of the Dauntless born initiates landed on their feet, Clarke stumbled and crashed the hard concrete floor, rolling painfully on her right side, her palms flying out to catch the ground. Clarke clutched her shoulder and switched onto her back, eyes shut. When Clarke opened her eyes, Octavia held out her hand. Clarke allowed herself to be pulled up.

“Stiff!” A boy jeered behind them. 

‘Stiff’ was a common insult slung at her throughout her life as an Abnegation faction member. Given the hostilities between Abnegation and Erudite lately, the word was getting thrown her way more days than not. Clarke heard the scattered chuckles from her peers. 

Octavia’s eyes narrowed into slits before coming toe-to-toe with the insulter. “What the hell are you supposed to be?”

The tall, lanky boy had a sharp nose and slicked back hair. He was dressed in all black, but Clarke saw the thick white stitching on his shirt and knew he must have transferred from Candor. To his credit, he pushed his nose into the air and refused to take Octavia’s bait. “Murphy.” 

“You look like a Candor asshole to me.” 

People had gathered now, forming a circle around the Dauntless firecracker and the Candor cockroach. 

“Enough.” Clarke recognized Indra, the Dauntless leader, as she broke through the rows of initiates. “Save it for the ring.” Indra’s eyes met Clarke’s briefly, but if she was surprised she didn’t show it. Clarke assumed her secret was safe with Indra; if she wanted to turn Clarke in she would have by now. Murphy took a step back, but Octavia didn’t budge until he moved to farther away. 

Indra moved to the building’s ledge and commanded everyone’s attention. “The way into Dauntless is simple: jump.” Apparently jumping was a way of life at Dauntless.

“Off the building?” A small voice asked from somewhere in the middle of the teenagers. 

“Yes, off the building. If you’re too scared, you don’t belong here so don’t waste my time.” 

The group didn’t ask anymore questions. 

“Any volunteers? Or should I throw someone?”

“Me.” Clarke pushed forward before she knew what she was doing. If she wanted to fit in with Dauntless, she needed to start now. Indra looked Clarke up and down once before gesturing to the building’s ledge. Clarke hesitantly pulled herself up several feet until both shoes connected with the metal railing. The breeze was stronger at the top of the building, and Clarke felt her knees buckle. _Don’t think. Just jump. _

The wind whistled over her ears and Clarke let out a whoop of appreciation for the experience of utter liberation. Quickly, her back connected with a yielding surface. She bounced once, twice and then rolled sideways into a pair of toned arms. 

Clarke turned her face and almost brushed her nose against someone with tanned skin and a smattering of freckles across his nose. She expected the man to put her down, but it wasn’t until the sound of the second initiate hit the netting that the man dropped her. Her gray clothes probably shocked him-- who would expect a Stiff to be the first jumper?

“Thanks,” Clarke breathed. 

“Name?” He asked back. Their eyes met for a quick moment and he looked away immediately, reaching to pull the net down for the next body. 

“Clarke.” 

“First jumper, Clarke!” 

Octavia slid next to them and bounced on her heels. “Nice one, Clarke. You gunna announce my name too, big brother?” Octavia teased. 

“Nope, just the first jumper.” 

Clarke heard cheers from the distance but still kept her eyes on the pair in front of her. Octavia bumped shoulders with the boy and Clarke took a moment to appraise him. His brown eyes were light when he spoke to Octavia and he sought out Clarke’s gaze again. Clarke looked down at the ground.

Of course, Octavia had grown up Dauntless. She would know everyone in the compound. Clarke’s heart ached for the first time for her lost Abnegation family and friends. _ Who would play with Madi? When her dad forgot his lunch in the mornings, who would take an extra bus to drop it off to him? Did Wells feel the same pang in Candor? _

The rest of the initiates plunged into the net one by one until the group were all gathered once again. Indra jumped last, bouncing once before landing on her feet in the delicate net. She jumped down to the ground without help. “Congratulations, your official Dauntless initiation has begun. I will be taking female candidates and Blake will be leading the men to your bunks.” 

_ His name was Blake. _ All too soon for Clarke’s liking she was following the rest of the women to their living quarters, which was one large room. The lack of shower curtains and toilet stalls made Clarke’s cheeks blush; no one had seen her naked since she was a child. 

The bunks were separated by a simple bedside table and there were Dauntless issued black clothing at the foot of each one. “You all will become close over the next few weeks, and you better get close fast.” Indra nodded as the girls disseminated to the beds. “After stage one, all initiates will live together, this is temporary until the first rounds of cuts are made.”

“Cuts? When did Dauntless start cutting initiates?” The girl was dressed in similar clothing to the Dauntless uniform and Clarke guessed she must be Dauntless born, but still unaware of the faction initiation procedures. 

Clarke chanced a look at Octavia and she seemed equally confused. _ Had Dauntless changed its procedures? Had all the factions? _

“Since now,” a new voice said. The woman walking in had a severe beauty about her. Her eyes and jaw were sharp and her blunt hair was tied back in a low ponytail. Her resting facial expression was unapproachable and Clarke wondered if she had ever smiled. 

“There are new Dauntless initiation rules. I’m Diyoza, one of your five Dauntless leaders along with Indra. Yes, we are cutting initiates. Only the top fifteen candidates will make it.” 

No one started whispering, but all of their eyes started searching for reactions from one another. Clarke set her face in a calm mask, she couldn’t let anyone sense the panic rising up in her throat. 

“First of all, we start each day at 0-800 hours and finish at 18-00 hours. You’ll have an hour for lunch. I don’t care what you do after 18-00 each night, as long as it isn’t killing another initiate. If you kill someone, we assume that means you’re a coward and can’t work with a team. You will be executed.” 

_ Executed? _ Clarke wasn’t that surprised to learn Dauntless didn’t submit traitors to Candor trials, but it still sent a chill up her spine. 

“Last thing, if you want to leave the Dauntless compound, you need to be accompanied by a Dauntless member, not an initiate. It’s a hell of a lot of paperwork if we lose someone, and I’m not in the mood.” Diyoza tried to sound like she didn’t care one way or another, but Clarke could tell Dauntless was more concerned about traitors than protecting their potential members.

“The alarm bell rings at 0-600 hours, I would get a good sleep if I were you.” With no further instructions, Diyoza left the room. Indra quickly followed and left them alone. Glancing around, Clarke saw only one third of the beds were full; there were far less female Dauntless initiates than males. 

“Warm welcome,” The girl in the yellow dress scoffed.

“Should we say our names?” Someone suggested. 

“Octavia!” She waved once before sitting on her bed, shoes and all. Clarke was happy Octavia chose to sleep next to her.

“Clarke.” 

“Lexa.” She was the one who questioned Indra. Clarke was taken by Lexa’s shrewd eyes and muscular physique. 

“Echo.” She was the Amity transfer and Clarke guessed the girl must have chosen the name right now-- they rarely had such unusual names. 

“Anya.” 

“Trina.” She wore a white shirt with black bottoms to mark her as a Candor transfer.

“Luna.” Her hair looked like a lion’s mane. _ Lion Luna, _ Clarke thought to herself, trying to embed each name into her memory. These women would be her bunk mates, but also her competition. The more Clarke knew them, the better. 

“Ontari.” Another Dauntless born. Ontari had a terrifying pattern of raised scars arranged artfully around her face. 

“Nia. And yes, Ontari and I are sisters.” Clarke glanced between the two girls and noted that Nia also had scars along her cheeks. 

“Gina.”

Ten. There were only ten female initiates and the boys easily doubled their number. Eyes shifted from one to another as each initiate realized the same thing. 

“We’re going to have to look out for each other,” Gina said. 

Lexa rolled her eyes. “Speak for yourself.” She sat down on her bed and started unlacing her boots. No one knew how to follow Lexa’s remark, so they each stood awkwardly before turning to their own space. 

“Wanna go check things out?” Octavia asked after Clarke traded her gray, loose clothes for a black Dauntless jacket and leather pants; it was the most form-fitting outfit Clarke had worn in her life. Clarke nodded her head and moved to follow Octavia.

“Looking good, Stiff.” Lexa nodded up at her from her lashes and Clarke’s heart flipped a bit, despite the slur. 

Octavia tugged on Clarke’s elbow until they were out of the room and in the rock cavern hallway. “Lexa is a piece of work, just so you know. I grew up with her.” 

“In what way?”

“She never does anything herself, but she has a couple of lackys that do whatever she says. Whoever crossed her would turn up the next day with a broken arm or a twisted ankle or a black eye.” 

Clarke’s stomach sank. She couldn’t imagine anyone in Abnegation hurting each other on purpose, that went against their entire purpose of existence. 

“Yikes,” Clarke muttered. 

Octavia linked her arm through Clarke’s and the feeling of another person against her skin was hot and foregin. But the contact made Clarke feel like she had a friend here, even with Madi at home. She didn’t expect to make friends in Dauntless. “Why are you being nice to me?” 

Octavia paused and looked over at her. “Not all Dauntless are bloodthirsty and selfish, you know. Just Diyoza and Lexa.” 

Clarke laughed and it felt good, the tension left her muscles. “I’m a Stiff.” 

“You’re Dauntless now, and that’s the point. As far as I’m concerned, transferring from a faction that’s the opposite of Dauntless takes a lot of bravery. You jumped first too. And…” Octavia grinned to herself. “My brother looked like a deer in the headlights when he helped you off the net.” 

Clarke’s face flushed red at the insinuation and quickly sought to change the subject. “I want to change my hair.” 

Octavia grinned. “Now we’re talking.” 

When Clarke left the shop, her long wavy hair had been cut bluntly across her chin. And just for Madi, some strands were dyed berry pink.


	2. Never Have I Ever

The next morning Clarke was awake before the alarm bell. She spent most of her night tossing and turning in the unfamiliar room. Clarke never shared a room with anyone else and now she could hear everyone fidget and breathe. Someone cried. 

When the bell rang, Clarke rushed to pull on her Dauntless clothes before the lights switched on. She wanted to avoid changing in front of the other girls; some Abnegation traits would die hard.

In the mess hall, her and Octavia looked around the open tables to pick their spots among their peers. Clarke didn’t care where they sat as long as it was away from Murphy. Octavia dragged her over to Blake, sitting alone with his face in a book. 

“God, I still can’t believe you chose Dauntless over Erudite,” Octavia teased when they sat down. 

Blake looked up to comment back, but his eyes stopped on Clarke. “You changed your hair.” 

Clarke shrugged and went to touch the ends of her bob. 

Octavia rolled her eyes. “Good morning to you too, Bell. It’s nice to see you.” 

“Bell?” Clarke asked.

Blake shot his sister a dirty look. “My first name is Bellamy, but most people call me by

my last name here.” 

_His name was Bellamy. It was beautiful--the sounds rolled around in her mind like a song. _ “Why?”

“You’re way too curious for Abnegation,” Octavia pointed out between a mouthful of eggs. 

“Most instructors go by their last names,” Bellamy said defensively. Now that Clarke knew his full name, ‘Blake’ didn’t seem to suit him, not at all. For the sake of her own embarrassment, she knew she would have to refer to him as Blake during training. 

“Most instructors didn’t terrorize their initiate class,” Octavia said under her breath. 

Clarke arched an eyebrow. Bellamy glared at his sister again. “I did not _ terrorize _ them.” 

“I don’t know about that,” a dark-skinned and strong looking man stood next to Bellamy. He had a thick, muscular chest and a shaved head with geometric tattoos crawling up his neck and arms. Clarke could tell he was kidding by the upturn of the right corner of his mouth. He sat in the open seat across from Octavia. "I'm Lincoln, the other trainer for your pledge class." 

"Clarke. Did he terrorize his pledge class?” 

“Not on purpose. He was just good at everything. Never lost a fight, quickest sim times and he only has five fears in his landscape,” Octavia rattled off these facts proudly and Bellamy’s face turned red. Clarke didn’t want to sound like a complete moron, so she refused to ask any of the dozens of questions that sprang to mind. 

Lincoln cut in. “Most people have ten to fifteen fears in their landscape. No one else in Dauntless has gotten as few as five in decades. The lowest in my pledge class was seven.” She was grateful for Lincoln’s charity in explaining something to her. 

“Wow,” Clarke said. 

“Not sure how little Blake will be able to live up to all that,” Lincoln teased. 

“Shut up, Lincoln.” Octavia said. Clarke could tell by the change in Octavia’s voice that she liked him. 

“Watch it, O. I control your ranking.” Octavia turned to her brother, jaw agape. 

Bellamy rolled his eyes. “Leadership wouldn’t let me be in charge of you, O. Cummon. Lincoln is taking all the Dauntless-born and I’m taking the transfers.” Clarke’s heart sank, her and Octavia wouldn’t be in training together, but her and Murphy would. _ At least Bellamy would be there… _

“Thank god you like me,” Octavia commented to Lincoln. Bellamy shot her a sharp look and Lincoln turned to his food. 

Clarke decided to put Octavia out of the line of fire. “What are we doing today?” 

Bellamy responded immediately. “Fight technique. You’ll start matches tomorrow.” 

“You’ll start matches today,” Lincoln said to Octavia. She nodded resolutely. Of course, Dauntless born initiates grew up knowing the basics of combat. Clarke grew up learning to forget herself. 

The group ate breakfast together and Clarke kept her mouth shut, trying to absorb as much new information as possible. She thought of who her first opponent would be and how she could possibly win when she didn’t know the first thing about fighting and stood at a small 5’ 3”. The four walked together until they reached the training arena, then Lincoln and Bellamy broke off to join Indra at the front of the room. 

The walls of the training arena were the same reddish rock that made up the entire Dauntless compound. From the cavern ceiling hung punching bags, targets and bars for exercise. The center of the room held a large arena with a blank scoreboard. 

“Indra is the Dauntless leader in charge of recruitment,” Octavia explained. “She’s the least brutal one of the five for sure, but I didn’t think she’d be helping this year.” 

“Why not?”

“Do you remember the Dauntless transfer?”

The image of a gorgeous young woman with dark skin and bleached hair swam in front of Clarke’s eyes as she cut her hand to drip blood over the Abnegation stones. “The girl who went to Abnegation?” 

Octavia nodded. “That’s Indra’s daughter.” 

Clarke’s mouth dropped open. Having the daughter of a leader pick the opposite faction, what a scandal Indra must be surrounded in. _ The same scandal Clarke’s mother was surely facing back home… _

Clarke pushed down the pang of guilt as Indra began speaking. “The first phase of training is primarily physical. We will be splitting into Dauntless born led by Lincoln, and transfers led by Bellamy. There you will learn or review the basics of combats. Matches begin today and tomorrow. Your rankings will be based on this fight and the two sequential ones. Win against someone ranked higher, you will advance. Lose to someone lower, you will fall. Let’s begin.” 

Octavia knocked her elbow against Clarke once before following Lincoln out the door of the room. Once the Dauntless born initiates left, only nine people remained: Clarke, Echo, Trina, Gina, Murphy and four other boys she didn’t know. 

“Like I said yesterday, I’m Blake. I’ll be your instructor. It’ll help me and the others if we know your names.” 

Bellamy pointed to one of the unknown boys and his voice cracked in eagerness to answer. “Macallan.” 

“Eric.” 

“Finn.” 

“Cassius.” 

Clarke burned their names into her brain: know the enemy. To make top 15, Clarke would have to be better than everyone in this room and then some. 

Once the group finished, Bellamy nodded. “Right, watch me as I demonstrate some basic kicks, punches and blocks.” 

After he showed the group several maneuvers, Bellamy dismissed them to practice individually on punching bags. Clarke’s had duct tape wrapped around the middle, having clearly split open before against angry knuckles. _ Could she ever feel that angry? _

Clarke began practicing her punches and red marks quickly bloomed across her pale knuckles. The punching bag didn’t move. 

“You need to follow through.” The breath was quiet and hot in Clarke’s ear. She jerked her head to the side to meet Bellamy’s gaze. His hands came to grip her waist and he gently twisted her core to demonstrate the concept. “When you punch, you’ll get a lot more force if you follow through the motion with your body. Try it again.” 

Clarke would love to, but her brain had short circuited. Her parents barely showed physical affection and Clarke had never been touched like this before. Not only had she not been touched much, but nevertheless by someone she deemed beautiful. It felt like sparks were sprouting out from Bellamy’s fingers and licking her side. 

“Take your time,” Bellamy chuckled, snapping Clarke out of her thoughts. Clarke punched again, while Bellamy’s hands aided her rotation. Once she finished, he removed his hands quickly like he was burned. “Good.” 

Before Clarke could get a look at his face, he turned away to help Finn. Clarke took a deep breath and hit the punching bag again, channeling the new electricity into her movements. The bag moved. 

* * *

That afternoon, everyone sat around to watch the Dauntless born match-ups. Tomorrow morning would be the transfers’ turn. 

“First up,” Lincoln began. “Wick versus Nathan.” 

The two boys crawled under the ring ropes and set themselves into a fighting stance. Clarke noticed how their feet were grounded and hip-width apart. Their knees were bent to keep them closer to the ground and more difficult to unbalance. “Go.” 

The boy named Wick darted forward immediately and Nathan twisted his arm around his back, sweeping his leg behind Wick’s knees bringing him to the ground. Wick wasn’t giving up; he used his free hand to bend back Nathan’s wrist. It was enough to wiggle free from his grasp and deliver a right hook to Nathan’s face. Nathan retaliated immediately to Wick’s stomach as blood flowed out of his nose. 

Clarke’s dad would be horrified if he could see what was happening. 

Once Wick was motionless on the floor, Lincoln declared Nathan the winner. A few Dauntless boys carried Wick off and Clarke hoped Dauntless had advanced pain medicine, it looked like they would need it. 

“Octavia and Lexa,” Lincoln called out. His lips were tight together and arms crossed, tense body language. Clarke wondered if Lincoln liked Octavia in the way she seemed to like him. Clarke also shifted her gaze to Bellamy, who was trying desperately to keep his face neutral. He might fool others, but Clarke could see the tint of worry in his brown eyes. 

The match began and Octavia immediately dodged two of Lexa’s punches; she was fast and light on her feet. Octavia’s small size served her well as she swept Lexa’s feet out from under her and mounted her in one single swoop. Octavia sat on Lexa’s chest pinning her arms to the side and delivered blow after blow. Lexa’s fingers twitched as a sign of surrender and Octavia grinned to herself. Octavia stuck out her hand to help Lexa up, but she ignored it and preferred to drag herself to the corner of the ring and up one of the posts. 

Clarke was in awe of Octavia’s natural skills; she would be making it through Dauntless initiation for sure. When she fought it looked more like a choreographed dance than violence. Bellamy was beaming. “Good job,” Clarke whispered once Octavia returned by her side.

“Thanks.” Octavia seemed pleased with herself too. 

After Octavia’s battle, Nia lost to Luna with the lion’s mane. Luna didn’t give Nia the chance of a surrender, beating her unconscious with only several well aimed shots. Ontari was angry, most likely at her sister’s ugly defeat, when she began to fight Anya and beat her quickly. Clarke tried to keep track of the Dauntless boy matches, but there were too many names for her to memorize.

After the final fight the group was dismissed to dinner. While they ate Octavia dissected what each person’s strengths and weaknesses were based on what she saw. Clarke’s years of listening in Abnegation were coming in handy. 

“Let’s play never have I ever,” Gina, the Erudite transfer, offered when all the girls were back in the dormitory, except Anya who was still in the medical bay. Clarke had never heard of the game but didn’t want to be seen as a no-fun Stiff. 

“Is that some stupid nerd game?” Luna asked. 

“No. Everyone starts with ten fingers up. You say something you’ve never done before. If someone else has done it, they put their finger down. First person out loses.” 

“What should the loser’s punishment be?” Trina asked. 

“Quick trip down the chasm,” Lexa muttered in the bed next to Clarke.

“Not happening,” Octavia cut in, glaring at Lexa. Despite the black eye Lexa was sporting from their earlier match up, Lexa still shot daggers at Octavia. 

“What’s the chasm?” Gina asked, slightly put out that no one immediately agreed to play her game.

“It’s a huge waterfall that flows under the pit. There’s a railing around it to remind people there’s a fine line between bravery and stupidity. If you jump it, you die.” A heavy weight settles around Nia’s words. 

“How about the loser has to steal something from a trainer’s room?” There was a murmur of excitement among the girls. 

“I like it,” Echo said. “But if this is Dauntless, don’t you think the loser should be the person has done the _ least _? Not the one who has done the most?”

Gina thought for a moment. “You’re right, last one standing loses.” The girls sat at the end of their mattresses and held up ten fingers. “Never have I ever… driven a car.”

“Does a tractor count?” Echo asked. Clarke remembered she transferred from Amity who plowed the land and farmed. 

“Yes,” Lexa said. She was clearly a natural leader the way everyone listened to her. Echo pulled down a finger and so did several Dauntless-born girls. 

Gina pointed to Ontari next to her. “Your turn.” 

“Never have I ever… had sex.” Clarke’s face turned a spectacular shade of red while she kept all ten fingers up. _ Sex? _Clarke had never made out with someone properly, never mind slept with someone. 

Clarke’s first kiss was with Wells, behind a bush on their way home from school when they were both 12; it was awkward and stiff. Even though Wells hinted at feelings for Clarke, she never mentioned the kiss or attempted to embrace him again. Then there was a girl from down the street… they kissed in a park when Clarke was 14 and realized she was attracted to both boys and girls. That was where Clarke’s short romantic history began and ended.

Next to her, Lexa dragged down her second finger and winked at Clarke. Clarke turned away back to Octavia before she could gain any inference from Lexa’s behavior. Octavia now had nine fingers. _ Who had Octavia slept with? _Clarke found only her, Ontari and Gina were left with ten fingers left, making them the only virgins in the room. _ Another thing she was apparently behind on. _

“Never have I ever swam in the river.” Neither had Clarke. 

“Never have I ever gotten drunk.” Neither had Clarke. 

“Never have I ever transferred factions.” That one came from Lexa next to her and Clarke was relieved to finally put one finger down; she felt like less of a Stiff. 

It was her turn, what to choose off her inexhaustible list of things she had never done? “Never have I ever fired a gun.” Every Dauntless member put a finger down. 

The game progressed until Lexa was the first one out. Octavia followed her, then most of the Dauntless-born girls. Finally, only Clarke and Gina remained. 

“Never have I ever… kissed a girl.” Gina said. Clarke put down her fifth finger.

“All right, Stiff!” Someone cried out. Unlike when Murphy said it, Clarke felt the term was being used affectionately from her fellow female initiates. 

“Never have I ever… yelled at my parents.” 

Gina put her seventh finger down. “Never have I ever crushed on an instructor.” Clarke kept her remaining five fingers held high. 

“Bullshit, put a finger down, Clarke.” Trina, transfer from Candor, had no problem expressing her thoughts. 

Clarke’s cheeks were pink. “I don’t have a crush on an instructor.” 

“We all saw Blake give you extra attention during training,” Trina added. Clarke envisioned punching Trina in her mouth.

Octavia sighed behind her. “Put your damn finger down, Clarke.” 

Clarke rolled her eyes and tucked her thumb away. She wanted to protest, but was afraid of looking pathetic. And if Octavia told her to put her finger down, she seemed to be supportive of Clarke’s interest in Bellamy. Not that she was entirely convinced she had a crush on Bellamy: she barely knew him. 

“Never have I ever studied for a test,” Clarke snapped back. Gina’s finger went down and she only had two left. It was a low blow bringing up Gina’s Erudite faction, but Clarke was annoyed. If Clarke wanted to get out first, she needed to stop thinking of things Gina _ had _ done to keep her in the game. 

“Never have I ever been called a Stiff.” Clarke’s finger went down, four to go. 

“Never have I ever broken a bone.” Clarke prayed Gina hadn’t either, but her ninth finger went down. Clarke cursed herself; she was going to lose because of her boring Abnegation life. 

“Never have I ever punched someone,” Gina said. Clarke was relieved someone else was as inexperienced as she was and gladly put down her seventh finger. 

One left. If Clarke said something Gina did, she would lose. _ And have to steal from a Trainer. What was the punishment for theft in Dauntless? Did they execute thieves here as well as traitors? _

Clarke’s heartbeat sped up. “Never have I ever… had a brother.” Gina didn’t mention any siblings and hoped to god she picked correctly. Gina’s finger went down and Clarke’s heart sank. Everyone cheered and gathered Gina in a hug. 

Octavia threw her arm around Clarke’s shoulders. “Don’t worry, Bellamy sleeps like the dead.” 

“What about Lincoln?” Clarke said quickly. 

“No, I think you should have to take something of Blake’s,” Trina said knowingly. Clarke quickly decided the Candor transfer was equally annoying as her male counterpart, Murphy. 

“Blake, Blake, Blake!” The girls started a chant and Clarke held up her hands in defeat.

“I don’t know where he sleeps.” 

“I do,” Octavia said quickly. She had the sensitivity to look sheepish when Clarke shot her a dark look. 

“What am I supposed to be stealing, exactly?” Clarke asked. 

“Nothing big, a shirt?” Gina asked the group. They nodded in agreement. 

“Let’s go,” Octavia said bouncing on her heels. Clarke got up to follow and the group behind her erupted in laughter. 

In the hallways, everything was dark. Thank god Octavia grew up in the cavern, otherwise Clarke was sure she would struggle to make it fifty feet. Octavia didn’t need eyes, she knew the path on memory and dragged Clarke with her. 

Down an unfamiliar spoke of the Pit they reached the base of a tight spiral staircase. “Bell’s room is up there, and the code to unlock is 0-2-1-3. It’s my birthday.” Clarke stayed in her spot. “Don’t worry, if he wakes up he won’t be mad at _ you. _ He knows stupid shit goes on during initiation. Plus, he likes you.” 

Clarke wished everyone would stop commenting on the strange connection she shared with Bellamy. They had only known each other a day, how on earth could they be interested in one another? Liking and love came from a long time of deep commitment… _ her Abnegation upbringing was kicking in again. _

Clarke shook her head to clear her thoughts before climbing up the cool metal staircase. She kept one hand on the railing and one hand out in front of her to feel for obstacles. Too soon, she felt the rough texture of the door and felt for a keypad. With the pressure of her fingers, the pad illuminated. 

0…

Clarke knew this was a terrible idea. 

2…

Bellamy was her instructor, twice her size _ and _a trained fighter. How would he react to someone breaking into his room? 

1…

What if her breaking into Bellamy’s room affected her ranking? What if she became factionless?

3…

_Calm down, Clarke _ . _ Get in, grab something of Bellamy’s, get out. _

The door clicked open and Clarke expected the room to be cloaked in darkness, but her eyes were immediately met with light. _ Fuck. _

“Octavia? What’s wrong…” Bellamy’s voice cut off as he pulled the door open and saw Clarke’s face. “Not Octavia.” 

Clarke froze under Bellamy’s gaze and forgot what on earth she was there for. His eyes that looked so dark brown and intimidating in the training room were soft and dancing in the dim lamp light. They were as close as they had been during training earlier that day and Clarke wondered what it would feel like to put her hands on him…

“What do you want?” The question wasn’t as brusque as Clarke knew Bellamy could be and it snapped her out of her thoughts. 

“There was a stupid game and I lost… and I have to take something… of yours.” Clarke bit her lip. 

Bellamy arched an eyebrow. “Have you ever stolen anything before, Stiff?” He was smiling: it was gorgeous and lopsided and Clarke wanted to make him smile as much as possible. She shook her head. “Didn’t think so, you’re terrible at it. What do you need to take?” 

“Uh… anything really. A shirt?” 

Bellamy’s cocky grin, a sure sign of his Dauntless upbringing, stayed firmly in place as he reached overhead and pulled off the black t-shirt he was wearing and handed it over.

_Don’t stare, don’t stare, don’t stare, _Clarke pleaded with herself. 

It was useless. 

Clarke hadn’t seen many people shirtless, and Bellamy was like a Roman sculpture. His chest and abdominal muscles were perfectly defined and were covered in a variety of scars. Some were small, others were deep like the one across the right side of his stomach. Clarke saw the tendrils of a tattoo curling over his shoulders and she desperately wanted him to turn around so she could map out his art and learn more about him. 

“You’re staring, Clarke.” His tone was gentle and he pushed the shirt into Clarke’s hands. Her cheeks colored spectacularly and she wanted to melt into the stairs and cease to exist. How embarrassing. 

“Um, thank you.” The shirt was warm in Clarke’s hands, she ran her fingers over the soft texture. 

Bellamy nodded. “Don’t worry about it. Rest up, you’re in the ring tomorrow.” And with that, Bellamy shut the door and Clarke was once again plunged into darkness. 

“Cummon!” Octavia’s voice at the bottom of the stairs pushed Clarke into motion. She was able to navigate the stairs quickly and Octavia linked her arm in Clarke’s when she returned to the cavern floor. 

“That’s Bellamy for ya, literally will give the shirt off his back for the people he cares about.” 

“He doesn’t know me,” Clarke protested. 

“Not yet,” Octavia pointed out. “He will. I know it.” 

When the two returned victorious to the dormitories all the others cheered, even Lexa. Clarke beamed under the slaps on the back and high fives. _ Maybe she could fit in at Dauntless after all. _

When the lights were dark and the whispers around them ceased, Clarke took Bellamy’s discarded shirt from under her bed and tucked it behind her pillow. For safekeeping. And if Clarke happened to take a sniff of the clothing to see what Bellamy smelled like (charcoal like the Dauntless coals), no one would ever know. 

* * *

The next morning was the transfers’ turn for match-ups. “First up this morning, Murphy and Finn.” Bellamy winked at Clarke from across the ring and she turned away. Clarke found herself immediately rooting for Finn, a transfer from Erudite, just to have someone win against the Candor cockroach. 

“I hope Murphy gets knocked out cold,” Echo whispered to Clarke; it was nice to have someone on her side other than Octavia. Since the game last night, a new sense of camaraderie and friendship settled through the female initiates. Abnegation customs prevented members from sharing much about themselves, and Clarke realized people she knew her whole life were less important to her than these new friends she had known for two days. 

When the fight began, Finn got in one good uppercut to Murphy’s jaw before Murphy punched him squarely across the face. Finn dropped to the ground and Murphy kicked Finn’s sides, his stomach, and finally his nose before Finn went unconscious. The sight made Clarke sick._ What was brave about kicking someone when they are down? _

A group gathered to lift Finn up and take him to the medical bay. Bellamy sucked in a breath before announcing the next pair. “Clarke and Echo.”

Echo looked at Clarke and frowned. “That sucks.” 

Clarke snorted. “Yeah. Let’s just do our best. No hard feelings.” 

“Good luck,” Octavia whispered in Clarke’s ear before she started forward. 

Clarke was relieved Echo was equally slender as her, but she had a solid six inches on Clarke. Clarke tried to think of what weaknesses Echo had as they climbed into the ring. Maybe she could knock Echo off balance. 

“Go.” 

Echo’s face transformed. Gone was the smiling friend, replaced by intensity. A shiver went down Clarke’s spine, Echo already looked like she belonged as a Dauntless member. Clarke pulled her arms up into a defensive stance and dodged Echo’s first strike. Clarke attempted a right hook, but Echo grabbed her arm and twisted. 

A gasp of pain left Clarke’s lips and she forgot any proper technique. Clarke thrashed in Echo’s grip and picked up her foot, attempted to step on Echo’s. Instead, Echo grabbed Clarke’s leg and got her on the ground. Falling on the floor knocked the wind out of her, but Clarke knew she had to get up. She couldn’t let herself be open and exposed in her torso. 

Clarke dragged herself into a standing position once again and put her hands back up. Before Echo could register Clarke’s stance, she dodged forward and connected a punch to Echo’s collar bone. The girl let out a small cry (of surprise or of pain Clarke didn’t know). Echo became more determined. 

Echo’s fist connected wholly with the side of her face and Clarke’s head whipped to the side while pain spread across her left cheekbone. Her vision went blurry, but she could see Lincoln watching them with his arms crossed and an inscrutable expression. Bellamy was looking at the ground. _ What, this wasn’t entertaining enough for him? _

Instead of aiming higher again, Clarke tried to connect her fist to Echo’s ribs. The girl’s grunt let Clarke know she was at least partially successful even if she was still seeing double. Echo swept her foot under Clarke and knocked her down for the second time. 

“Finish it,” a deep voice said. It was the last thing Clarke heard before everything went black. 

* * *

When she came to, her head was in Octavia’s lap. “Hey there, you all right?” 

Clarke felt like her jaw was broken and pain gripped her head like a vice, but she managed to nod. 

“Good. You did pretty well, you got back up and got in a few good hits, I’m sure you’ll still get some points for that.” Clarke closed her eyes again and let Octavia’s voice wash over her. “Clarke, you gotta stay awake. Do you think you have a concussion? Should we go to the med bay?” 

Clarke’s eyes snapped open. If she wanted to be taken seriously, she couldn’t crumble and look weak after her very first fight. “No.” 

Octavia grinned. “Atta girl.” 

“Bellamy wasn’t looking,” Clarke said suddenly. “During my fight, he wasn’t paying attention. Isn’t he supposed to rank me?” 

Octavia furrowed her eyebrows. “I didn’t notice, but him and Lincoln decide together, along with Indra.” Clarke sat up and looked around the room, it was empty. “Lunch time just started. You up for the mess hall?” 

“Yup.” On the way out the door, Clarke caught a glimpse of her reflection and barely recognized herself. A black eye was sprouting on her face and blood dripped out of her nose, staining her lips and chin. 

“We’ll stop at the dorms so you can wash off.” Clarke was immensely thankful for Octavia in this moment and accepted her help walking back to their bunks. 

At the lunch table, Echo rushed over to Clarke. “I’m so sorry, Clarke.” 

Clarke was pleased to see her collarbone was bruising and waved her off. “Don’t worry about it. I’m fine. We’re all going to end up in the ring together, doesn’t mean anything.” Clarke dug into the hamburger in front of her, a new meal she became familiar with yesterday. 

“I’ll be back,” Octavia said before bounding over to Lincoln’s empty table. She sat next to him and Clarke was shocked to see the tough trainer smile. _ Lincoln _ did _ like Octavia. How does Bellamy feel about that? What if Lincoln was the one Octavia had slept with? _

Clarke swung her head around looking for the messy mop of Bellamy’s brown curls, but came up empty. Clarke tried to put him out of her head and focus on the raucous conversation in front of her. Finn was sitting at their table, looking in rougher shape than Clarke was herself. “I’m glad you got a swing in at Murphy.” 

Finn looked over to her and grinned. “Agreed. He’s such an asshole, isn’t he? You should hear him in the dorms, always bragging about how he’s going to be top of the transfers _ and _ Dauntless-born.”

“Doubt it, did you see Octavia’s fight yesterday?” Echo said. 

“You’ve picked a scary friend, Stiff.” Finn addressed Clarke between mouthfuls of hamburger. 

“She’s scary to people who cross her, I think I’ve picked well.” 

“Very Erudite of you,” Finn nodded approvingly. 

“I miss the fizzy drinks,” Gina said from a few seats down. 

“You had fizzy drinks?” Clarke asked curiously. 

Finn furrowed his eyebrows. “You didn’t?” 

“Abnegation eats plain food. Mostly plants and vegetables.” Echo explained. “All the stuff Amity grows in the fields.” 

“No wonder you transferred,” Finn said. He picked up his fork and took a large heap of chocolate cake. “This cake is amazing though.” 

“Close your mouth,” Trina shouted. Clarke privately rolled her eyes. 

The bell rang, indicating the end of lunch. Everyone in the mess hall jumped up and started jogging down different spokes of the Pit. Clarke moved more gingerly and Finn was equally slow. The two walked together down the path to the training room. 

“I like your new hair,” Finn complimented. 

Clarke wasn’t used to compliments on her appearance. “Thanks. My sister at home… she always wanted to dye her hair. We used to mash up berries to stain it. Our mom would be so angry.” 

Finn furrowed his eyebrows. “Why?” 

“Abnegation is supposed to reject vanity. Making yourself stand out and taking away attention from others is selfish.” 

Finn whistled. “That’s rough. It’s funny, hearing you speak about Abnegation goes against everything the Erudite says about them.” 

“What do they say?”

“That Abnegation selfishly hog the government. That they force people to reject any identity and steal excess supplies instead of giving them to the factionless.” Clarke gasped. She knew tensions were high amongst Erudite and Abnegation, but she didn’t think the propaganda was so vile toward her old faction. “Don’t worry, I never believed it. It was just more venom from the higher ups, Alie especially.” 

Clarke knew of the vicious Erudite leader Alie. Her own mother was a diplomat to Erudite and spoke of Alie in careful terms, not approving or disapproving but clearly concerned. 

“Good thing we’re both Dauntless now,” Clarke said. 

Finn gently nudged her. “Easy for you to say, first jumper.” 

When they reached the training room, Bellamy was next to Lincoln like he was never missing in the first place. For the rest of the fights during the day, Clarke tried to pick up on each member’s weaknesses and strengths to better serve her in the future, but she usually ended up staring at Bellamy. She noticed with annoyance that he paid close attention to every fight except hers. 

When the tired group returned to the training room the next morning, the first round of rankings were posted: 

_ 1- James _

_ 2- Octavia _

_ 3- Nathan _

_ 4- Lexa _

_ 5- Murphy _

Clarke kept her eyes scrolling until she found her name. 

_ 25- Clarke _

At least she wasn’t dead last, but after this round of initiation the lowest ten initiates would be cut: she was on the chopping block. 

Indra was waiting for them. “Your first rankings have been released. You will have two more opportunities to prove yourself in stage one before the first round of cuts. Today we’ll be visiting the shooting range to introduce you to weaponry.” Indra’s tone was cold and precise. Clarke didn’t have time to mourn her low ranking if she wanted to improve she needed to absorb everything her trainers said. 

At the shooting range, Clarke was dismayed to find firing a gun was no more intuitive to her than punching someone in the face. The machine felt foregin and heavy in her hands. Bellamy came up behind her. 

“Try and figure out your dominant eye and aim with it.” He gently lifted the gun and placed its long edge on her shoulder. “Breathe in, exhale, aim, pull the trigger.” His instructions sounded like a song and Clarke listened to him. 

_Breathe in…_

Clarke shut her right eye and adjusted her aim. 

_Exhale…_

The gun settled more firmly on her shoulder.

_Aim…_

Her barrel aimed directly at the bullseye. 

_Pull the trigger._

With a fierce recoil, Clarke planted her feet to avoid flinching. The bullet landed on the target, several rings away from the center. 

“Good job, princess.” Bellamy’s hot breath tickled her neck and before she could ask why he was calling her princess, he was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there! I've been so happy to see some feedback on the beginning of this fic! A couple of readers were concerned about the Lexa/Clarke tag or relationship, so I wanted to clarify. Lexa and Clarke will have a brief (one to two chapter long) fling, but Bellarke is the focus and end game here. To better represent that, I've removed the Clexa relationship tag. 
> 
> I'm hoping to update every Tuesday or Wednesday, with the next four or so chapters already being written. I appreciate you all!


	3. Brave Princess

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You have hereby been warned this chapter contains brief Clarke/Lexa! But also Clarke/Bellamy feels, so... :) 
> 
> I've also decided a group of unsupervised, adrenaline-crazed teenagers would get into many more social shenanigans than depicted in the Divergent series, so hence the frequent games/parties/etc. Hope you enjoy!

With their first round of match-ups complete, training took a different route to let the initiates heal. The entire class of Dauntless initiates gathered in the main training room waiting to hear Trainers’ instructions. 

“Today we’ll be practicing knife throwing,” Bellamy explained, twirling a six inch blade between his two fingers like it was no more than a pencil. Lincoln stood behind him looking intimidating. “Why do we bother with knives when we have guns?” 

The room was silent. Finn made the mistake of yawning loudly. Bellamy took two large strides toward him and drew a knife to Finn’s throat. Finn’s eyes wided and he straightened his posture, but it was too late. “Get in front of the target.” 

“What?” 

Bellamy’s expression was hard like steel and Clarke knew he wouldn’t repeat himself. Finn shuffled in front of the human-sized target. “If you don’t flinch for three throws I’ll forget your rudeness.” 

Clarke was faintly disgusted, not understanding the request’s motive. “What’s brave about making someone stand in front of a target?” 

The question was meant for Echo alone, but Bellamy turned to the group of transfer initiates. “Princess, take Finn’s place.” 

Clarke realized he meant _her_ and narrowed her eyes. As she walked to the target Clarke wondered where the light from Bellamy’s gaze lived in these moments. He looked nothing like the man who helped her down from the jumping net. She never knew someone who could be stone one minute and water the next, flowing around his sister and extending guidance to improve Clarke’s fighting stance. 

Clarke meet Finn and he stepped away mouthing “ _ sorry, _ ” but Clarke knew this wasn’t his fault. In reality, it wasn’t Bellamy’s either: it was the new Dauntless order that demanded fool-hearted bravery that bordered on lunacy. 

When Bellamy threw the first knife it landed in the wood three inches to the right of Clarke’s shoulder. Clarke barely registered the blur and therefore didn’t have time to react. The group let out murmurs of appreciation. 

The next throw was harder, because she knew it was coming. The second knife landed two inches from her throat. Clarke didn’t move but swallowed involuntarily, as if she needed to check that the muscles still worked after being brushed so closely with destruction. The initiates grew louder in their cheers. 

Clarke felt the final knife before she saw it, a dull ache spread in the tip of her left ear. Clarke brought her finger to the pain source and pulled away to see blood tinting her fingertips. 

“That is why we bother with knives,” Bellamy said calmly. “They’re a weapon of stealth and precision. Any idiot can shoot a gun, but skilled soldiers can wield knives. You may also find yourself in a situation where you need to conceal a weapon-- knives are the more optimal choice. Find a station.” 

Clarke touched her ear again, recognizing the wound was superficial and shallow. The group scattered but Clarke remained at the target. “Tell me, do Dauntless leaders mind if you kill off initiates?” 

Bellamy walked around the throwing table to stand several feet in front of Clarke. “I don’t want to kill you, I want to teach you. Don’t you think I could have hurt you if I tried?” The truth behind his statement sent a chill down Clarke’s spine. “If you want to do well here you need to know when to keep your mouth shut, princess.” 

_ Maybe you need to control your anger. _ The retort was poised on Clarke’s tongue but she didn’t want to prove Bellamy’s point. Clarke managed a stiff nod before side-stepping him. Before she completely dismissed the incident, she couldn’t help herself. Clarke didn’t turn around. “Why ‘princess’?”

“Your mom is Abby Griffin, she’s a government rep. Just want to remind you that doesn’t make you anyone special, especially not here.” Bellamy’s voice dripped poison and Clarke wondered how she could have been so wrong about him.

Clarke rotated to be nose-to-nose with Bellamy. Clarke’s breathing was erratic and she felt anger rocketing through her. “If I wanted to feel special because of my mom, I would have stayed in Abnegation. I’m here now, Dauntless is my faction.” 

“For now,” Bellamy pointed out. 

Everything from the past few days bubbled up: anger at her Divergent test results, anger for her father not sharing everything he knew, anger at the faction system for being so rigid, anger at Murphy for insulting her, and finally anger at Bellamy for being just another Dauntless drone, hellbent on making her life miserable. 

Clarke slapped Bellamy across the face. 

The commotion of the training room stopped. All initiates put down their knives and quieted to observe Bellamy and Clarke. Clarke dared to look up and was annoyed to see Bellamy’s face hadn’t moved, no red mark starting to form. Bellamy didn’t look angry. He ran his tongue over his lip and stared down at Clarke with… worry?

“You gunna let yourself get disrespected by a Stiff, Blake?” Clarke’s stomach sank. The voice belonged to Diyoza. Bellamy’s eyes flashed and Clarke could see the panic behind them. 

“I think I have an idea to help teach her respect, old Trainer to new.” Diyoza circled around Clarke like a shark sniffing an injured food source before coming to rest beside Bellamy. He looked trapped and uncomfortable, shifting between each of his feet. “I think five minutes over the chasam will shut her up.” 

“Should make it ten,” Murphy muttered behind Clarke’s back. The fellow boy initiates chuckled with him. Bellamy flexed his arms like he was gripping his own sides. 

Clarke’s throat closed and she remembered Nia’s words about the chasm her second night in the dorms:  _ if you jumped it, you’d die.  _ Her worst thoughts were confirmed when the color drained out of Bellamy’s tanned skin. 

“Follow me, Stiff and the rest of you.” Diyoza walked by Clarke without a second glance, knowing Clarke had no choice but to abide. The rest of the initiates started moving. Gina and Echo came to either side of Clarke, offering quick glances of encouragement with Octavia directly behind her. Bellamy didn’t move until Lincoln tapped his arm. 

“We installed nets under the chasm last week, Clarke will be fine,” Lincoln whispered as they walked, quiet enough that no one else heard. Bellamy’s shoulders immediately sagged with relief. “Never seen you so worried about someone other than O.” 

The use of Octavia’s nickname coming from Lincoln, his  _ older _ friend, made Bellamy’s hand automatically clench into a fist. He knew Octavia liked Lincoln; she was constantly seeking him out. Once, Bellamy found a sketch of Octavia next to her bed that was clearly done by Lincoln-- no one else in Dauntless could draw like that other than the tattooers. Despite the one year age gap between Bellamy and Lincoln, he couldn’t get over the fact Lincoln trained him when he was initiated into Dauntless, it made their ages seem much farther apart. And Bellamy didn’t want his _ little  _ sister with him.

Bellamy kept his mouth shut (_like_ _he told Clarke to do right before she slapped him_) as they climbed deeper into the Dauntless compound. The group reached the chasm and Diyoza had to shout to be heard over the roar of the rushing water. “Five minutes over the railing, holding on. If you last, you can stay. If not…” Diyoza shrugged her shoulders non-committedly. “One spot has opened up.” 

“This isn’t fair!” Echo exclaimed, her Amity kindness kicking in. “She doesn’t deserve to  _ die _ over a slap!”

Dioyza pushed her chest against Echo’s. “You can join her, banjo strumming softie. If you want to be thought of as Dauntless, you’d better act like it.” 

Echo clenched her jaw and Clarke thought she saw her eyes well up, but she walked next to her and pushed a leg over the railing. Clarke followed her lead, struggling with her shorter legs. 

“Go.” 

Clarke and Echo let their feet leave the rock ledge and dropped until their fingers gripped the bottom rungs of the fence. Spray from the water smashed against Clarke and Echo’s backs until they were soaked. Each moment stretched out in front of them, pulling on their aching fingers and gravity trying to drag them downward.

“Three minutes left,” Finn cried over the edge. 

Clarke’s arms started to hurt now in addition to her fingers, and Echo looked like she was in pain as well. “I don’t know if I can do this, Clarke.” 

Clarke had to read Echo’s lips to make out the words over the ferocious water. “You can! You can, Echo!” 

Echo shut her eyes and Clarke saw her lips moving. Maybe the girl was praying. Maybe she was cursing her choice of transferring to Dauntless. 

“One minute!”

One of Echo’s hands slipped and she screamed. Her remaining hand was turning red with the pressure of metal pressing against her joints. Four fingers left… three… two… Clarke pulled her right hand away and thrust it down to grip Echo. She was crying now and Clarke grunted with the force of her weight. 

“Time!” Hands thrusted through the fence slats to grab Clarke’s hand on the rail. Echo climbed up Clarke’s other arm until she could put her arms around Clarke’s neck. Once they’re pulled high enough, others reach up to grab Echo as well. They both made it back over the railing of the chasm, collapsing on one another in a heavy heap. 

“Thank you,” Echo whispered, pushing her forehead to Clarke’s shoulder. Another unusual piece of physical affection Clarke wasn’t used to. 

“No problem.” 

Diyoza didn’t look pleased. “Initiates are dismissed for the day, but you start at 0-600 tomorrow.” She turned in her heavy leather boots and left. 

Bellamy wanted to call out to Clarke before she left with her fellow initiates, but his heart was still in his throat. He wanted to tell Clarke she would have been okay, he would have never let something happen to her. The drive to protect her sprung up suddenly and took Bellamy aback. Bellamy couldn’t name why it felt so important to protect Clarke, only that her eyes looked startlingly familiar and he felt indebted to her in some unknowable way. 

Before he could say anything, only Lincoln was next to him, smirking. “You got it bad, Blake. Figures you would pick a smart-mouthed Stiff.” Lincoln clapped him on the back and left him alone. Bellamy turned the opposite way as the crowd, heading to the female initiate dorms. 

Finn found Clarke on the way out of the chasm hallway. “Hey, thank you for taking my spot like that.” He hesitated for a moment before adding, “brave princess.” 

Clarke moaned. “Not you too.” 

“ You don't like being called princess, do you princess?"

“No, not particularly.” 

Finn grinned and easily slung an arm around her damp shoulder as they walked so he could whisper in her ear. “You’re cute when you’re annoyed.” 

Clarke colored under his flirtation and the arm around her shoulders felt heavy. Finn noticed her discomfort and pulled away. “Hey, sorry. I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable.” 

“No, it’s fine. Everyone here is just so… touchy. I’m not used to it.” 

Finn laughed and Clarke found she liked the sound. His arm didn’t spark heat in her the way Bellamy’s touch did, but when she spoke to Finn she felt safe and secure. “That’s right, I forget you’re an Abnegation sometimes. Wanna eat lunch with me?” 

“Sure,” Clarke smiled. 

“You can even bring your scary friend.” 

“Octavia isn’t scary.” 

“I thought Lexa was scary and she beat the shit out of her. She’s going to be top of the rankings when this is all done.” 

“I need to change,” Clarke pointed out. 

“Ah yes, lead the way.” 

Clarke walked them to the female dormitory and felt strange bringing a boy there when it was empty, but she knew it was innocent enough. When they were just outside of the door, Bellamy emerged. Clarke’s eyes widened. 

“Blake?” Finn asked. 

“I was ordered to inspect the dorms,” Bellamy said quickly. Before either of them could ask any more questions, he pushed past them. 

“Weird,” Clarke murmured. 

“If he inspects the boy dorm I hope he takes Murphy’s porn.” 

Clarke laughed. “I’ll be right back.” 

“I’ll be here.” Finn leaned against the wall and Clarke was happy she didn’t need to ask him to stay out. 

Clarke shut the door quietly behind her and made her way over to her bed. She had a second set of training clothes in the simple trunk at the foot of her bed. When she opened the lid, a small slip of paper was resting on top of her folded items. 

_ Meet me at chasam. 23-00. Please. -B _

So that’s what Bellamy had been doing in her dorm. Clarke ran her thumb over the scrawl and the ink smudged.  _ Should she go? What if he demanded an apology she didn’t want to give? What if he was still angry at her for slapping him?  _ Bellamy’s worried face danced in front of her eyes and she didn’t think that was the case. 

Clarke realized she had been still for too long and pulled off her wet clothes, draping them on the metal bed frame to dry and pulling on her new outfit. She folded the note and stuck it in one of the zippered pockets of her pants. 

Finn was waiting in the same place she left him and Clarke wished for a moment she could take the strange energy she felt toward Bellamy and channel it to Finn. He was cute, with his chin-length hair and clear eyes. Clarke liked the way he laughed easily and didn’t take anything too seriously. Meanwhile, Bellamy flitted between nerdy protector and merciless fighter at a pace that gave her whiplash. 

Finn smiled at her. “Watching you fight my battles for me made me  _ starving _ , let’s go.” 

Clarke unsuccessfully tried to push Bellamy from her mind and followed Finn, who was careful not to touch her but hovered close enough that their fingers would accidentally brush. At lunch,  the fried chicken and potato wedges were another foreign meal for Clarke, but Finn grabbed two helpings without pausing so she did too. Octavia waved her over and the pair sat down across from her. 

“I’m Finn.” 

Octavia looked him up and down. “Yeah, I know. If you kept your hands up higher in defense, Murphy wouldn’t have knocked you out in your first fight.” 

Finn looked taken aback. “I’ll keep that in mind.” 

Octavia nodded once before tearing into her chicken. Finn turned to Clarke. “ _ Scary _ ,” he mouthed. 

* * *

The rest of the free afternoon passed excruciatingly slow. Octavia mysteriously disappeared and most of the Dauntless-born initiates practiced sparring each other. Without Octavia, Clarke didn’t feel confident enough to ask them to join in. So, she settled on her bed and watched each person carefully trying to index weaknesses and strengths in the case of an eventual match up. 

When night fell and it was finally time to see Bellamy, Clarke was careful not to wake her neighbors when sitting up and lacing her black boots. By now, Clarke could feel her way through the cavern walls with an average level of familiarity. She wasn’t as good as Octavia, but her rudimentary understanding of the compound was enough to find her way back to the chasm. 

Clarke recognized Bellamy’s curly hair and broad shoulders as she approached. He was sitting down, legs threaded through the railing slats to dangle them over the water. Clarke wordlessly sat next to him. 

Bellamy kept his eyes forward. “I’m sorry, Clarke. I lost my temper and I had no idea Diyoza was there. I shouldn’t have brought up your mom… that’s low. I deserved the slap. I’m trying… God, Clarke, I was trying to protect you and danger is still drawn to you like a magnet.” 

“Protect me?!”

“I told you to keep your mouth shut, Clarke. I wasn’t kidding. Dauntless leadership doesn’t take talking back. They expect recruits to act like soldiers, quiet and following orders.” 

Clarke thought about Abnegation’s social customs, telling parties when to speak or not and decided the two factions had more in common than anyone thought. Clarke snorted. “What’s the point of being brave if you can’t speak your mind?” 

Bellamy reached over and put his large hand on top of her own. “I know, but that’s how it is now. As a Trainer, I have to uphold the faction values. But that doesn’t mean…”

“Doesn’t mean what?” 

Bellamy took a deep breath. “That doesn’t mean I agree with them.” He took his hand back, shoving it in his pocket. 

“You don’t even know me. Why do you care what happens to me?” Clarke asked, ignoring her tingling hand. 

Bellamy chuckled. “If I knew Princess, I would tell you.” Clarke liked the nickname like this: breathless and light from Bellamy’s lips rather than drenched in his earlier sarcasm. Bellamy the Trainer was a Dauntless bully, while the boy next to her seemed peaceful and free. 

Clarke’s thoughts easily drifted back to why she shouldn’t let him get too close, let anyone get too close:  _ Divergent was dangerous… _ Even if she didn’t die today over the chasm, or during this training, she would die eventually. There were no old Dauntless members around the compound, something she refused to notice since her arrival. But if the government found out about her Divergence? She would die much sooner, Indra and her dad confirmed that. 

“You shouldn’t get near me,” Clarke warned. 

Bellamy was silent. “I may not have a choice.” The confession was quiet, barely audible against the water echoes. He stood up suddenly and started to walk away, but paused. “I’m sorry again. Please stay safe.” 

Clarke returned to her bed, turning Bellamy’s words over and over in her head. “ _ I may not have a choice.”  _ Did Bellamy feel their odd connection too? Why did Clarke’s body sing for him at just the brush of a hand? 

When she finally shut her eyes, there was only an hour left before their early wakeup bell. Clarke dragged herself out of bed in the silent dormitory. Gina put her shirt on backwards and had to right it as they walked to the breakfast hall. 

None of them were very hungry, so instead Clarke, Octavia, Trina, Echo, and Gina sat in the training room waiting for the boys and Trainers to arrive. Lexa and the two sisters, Nia and Ontairi sat away from the rest of the group in a tight triangle. Between the sister’s scars and Lexa’s heavy makeup, they looked positively terrifying. Luna laid on her back, far away from everyone, not shutting her eyes but methodically crossing her arms over her stomach, like she was afraid someone would kick her. 

“Up, initiates.” Bellamy’s voice sounded slow and annoyed as he walked into the room. The group stood on their feet in a shoulder to shoulder line. “Right, so we’re scheduled to analyze the Dauntless born second round fights today, which won’t start until 0-800. Let’s go back to the knife practice stations until then.”

No one said a word as they retreated to their own target cubicles. Clarke sighed as she looked down at the glinting knives. They reminded her of her Choosing Ceremony… was that really only four days ago? Her jaw ached from Echo’s punch in the ring two days ago and she was hoping it would heal before she had to fight a new opponent tomorrow.  _ Who did she stand a chance against? _

Clarke tried to push the thought out of her mind and focus on her aim. Clarke threw the first knife and it bounced off the target before clattering to the floor. The second time, she adjusted her grip further down and the top soared over the end before sticking in the head of the target. Clarke grinned. There was one aspect of Dauntless training she wasn’t terrible at. 

By the time Lincoln called for them all to gather around the ring, Clarke managed to bury three knives in the bullseye. 

“Not bad, princess.” Clarke’s ear tingled from Bellamy’s breath.

Octavia and Anya were called in as the first fighting pair. Poor Anya’s face was still swollen from her first fight with Ontari and Octavia used her injuries to target areas of high pain quickly; Anya was knocked out again. 

Wick won his fight against James, redeeming himself from his first round defeat and Lexa knocked Luna unconscious. Lexa was a talented fighter, Clarke hadn’t been able to see that when she fought Octavia because Octavia was too high above everyone when it came to hand-to-hand combat. 

The sisters, Ontari and Nia, were placed against one another and the fight was boring. It was clear the sisters weren’t eager to hurt one another, plus their fighting styles were the same. Ontari finally let a strong right hook through her defenses, giving her sister an undeserved win. Clarke wondered if that move would hurt both their rankings. 

Gina and Finn’s Erudite backgrounds came in handy-- between the two of them they remembered every Dauntless boy’s name to keep Clarke in the loop of who was winning. Nathan, Atom, Shaw and Drax all won their second fights while Ahtol, Cage, Nelson and Wick won their first. Lee, Chase and Otan were beaten for a second time. 

By the dinner bell, Clarke was exhausted. The early morning and lack of sleep tugged her eyelids down at the table. All Clarke wanted to do was climb in bed and sleep indefinitely, but the fellow female initiates had other plans. 

“Time to play Dare!” Ontari called out once everyone met back in the dormitory. 

“You mean Truth or Dare?” Trina asked. 

“No, that’s the Candor asshole version of the game. At Dauntless, we only care about dares.” Lexa’s correction was sharp and to Clarke’s delight Trina looked abashed. 

“The person opposite you in the circle gets to pick your dare,” Ontari explained. “So move it.” Clarke knew she had to participate despite her haggard body so she shuffled over to the floor and joined the initiate’s circle. Anya was, once again, in the medical bay, leaving an odd number at nine. No one asked what would happen if they refused a dare, because no one was willing to look weak in front of their peers. 

“I’ll go first,” Ontari said happily. Across from her was Luna, wearing a hard expression and wild curls pulled back into a ponytail. “Luna, I dare you to run through the boy’s dormitory naked.” Clarke let out a gasp and her cheeks lit up red while Octavia grinned to her right. Clarke had barely gotten used to an arm on the shoulder,  _ and now she might have to bare her naked self? _ She still was changing and showering at odd times in the dark to avoid being seen. 

Luna didn’t comment, but stood up and started stripping off her black Dauntless uniform. Clarke averted her eyes until she heard the patter of Luna and Ontari’s feet leaving the dorm. The girls burst into chatter behind them. 

“Are all the dares about being naked?” Clarke grumbled.

Octavia laughed. “No. Don’t worry, you’ll be fine.” 

After five minutes the two girls returned. “Done and witnessed!” Ontari declared. Luna pulled on her black sports bra and Dauntless training pants, leaving her shirt on the ground. When she turned to face the group, Clarke saw Luna’s stomach and it was as toned as Bellamy’s was the night he gave Clarke his shirt. Clarke thought about her own flat and undefined stomach, wishing Abnegation let children play and exercise. 

Nia turned to Echo. “I dare you to take a Dauntless car for a joy ride.” 

Echo’s eyes widened. “I haven’t driven a car.”

“You said you drove a tractor in Amity. It’s basically the same thing. I know where they keep the vehicles, come on.” Nia stood expectantly for Echo who eventually pulled herself up. Clarke would absolutely rather steal a car than streak through the compound. Most of the group got up to watch, but Clarke stayed back with Octavia and Gina.

“You guys nervous about your fights tomorrow?” Octavia asked. 

“I already lost to Trina, so the only people I could go against would be Echo or you, Clarke.”

Clarke’s stomach dropped, she didn’t realize how limited the female transfer initiate pool was. “You’re right. I could only fight you or Trina.” 

“I hope it’s Trina,” Octavia grinned. “She could use a punch in the mouth.” 

“I think it’s ridiculous we have to fight against the people we’re supposed to bond with. I wish they brought in sparring partners or something.” Gina complained. “We’re supposed to be training to fight  _ with _ the Dauntless, not  _ to _ fight them.” 

“They want to see you can compartmentalize your personal self from your Dauntless self,” Octavia explained. “As a soldier, you need to be able to follow commands even if you don’t agree with them. Nia and Ontari today did a bad job of that, their fight was weak and I bet you they drop in the rankings because of it.” 

“It makes sense,” Clarke sighed and ran her hand through her shortened locks. “That doesn’t mean we have to like it.” 

“You look tired,” Gina pointed out matter-of-factly. 

“Does it have anything to do with where you went in the middle of the night?” Octavia asked. 

Clarke choked on the air she was breathing and tried to disguise it as a cough. “What do you…”

Octavia rolled her eyes. “When you grow up Dauntless you learn to be a light sleeper. I heard you leave.” 

Gina nudged Clarke’s shoulder. “Ooooh, where were you?” 

Clarke’s cheeks reddened before she could answer and Octavia’s mouth dropped open. “Were you with Bellamy?”

Gina’s eyebrows shot up. “Who’s Bellamy?” Clarke forgot not all of the initiates knew Bellamy Blake’s first name. 

“Trainer Blake,” Clarke said weakly. 

Octavia shut her mouth before crossing her hands neatly in her lap. “Well now I’m really curious, but keep in mind I’m his little sister and don’t want the dirty details of--”

“It wasn’t like that!” Clarke yelled, horrified at Octavia’s insinuation. “He wanted to apologize for the chasm thing with Diyoza.”

“Trainer Blake  _ apologized _ to you?” Gina was clearly shocked. 

Octavia smiled. “Oh I knew it.” 

“Trainer Blake apologized to you  _ after you slapped him _ ?” Gina’s Erudite brain looked like it was short-circuiting. 

“Yeah, it’s because my brother has a thing for Clarke.” Octavia said easily, reclining back on her palms to unbend her legs and lay them flat. 

Gina grinned. “Initiation romance, how dreamy.” 

Clarke’s entire face looked like a tomato. “There’s no romance!” 

Gina rolled her eyes. “Oh cummon, so you’re saying it’s one way? You don’t think Blake is gorgeous?”

Octavia plugged her ears. “I don’t want to hear this.” 

Clarke would take another five minutes over the chasm instead of this conversation. “I mean, yes, obviously he’s good looking. But I barely know him. We met four days ago!” 

Octavia took her hands down. “Time doesn’t matter, I knew it when I saw him holding you after you jumped. Sometimes you get that instant connection with someone and you know they’re going to be important-”

“Was that you and Lincoln?” Clarke shot back. 

Gina looked excitedly at Octavia. “Are you dating a Trainer  _ too _ ?!” 

“Bellamy and I aren’t dating. I slapped him yesterday.” Clarke snapped. 

“I’m not dating Lincoln.” Octavia said sadly. 

Trina’s excitement faded and Clarke looked confused. “You don’t like him?” 

“Lincoln said Bellamy wouldn’t approve and he’s probably right.” Suddenly Octavia looked as small as her stature suggested. She pulled her arms around her sharp knees and bit her bottom lip.

“How old is he anyway?” 

“Nineteen.” 

Clarke was surprised, the Dauntless trainer looked to be 22 easily, if not older. _ If Bellamy didn’t approve of his 16 year old sister with a 19 year old guy, Clarke doubted he would approve of  _ her _ as a romantic choice for himself...  _

“Well that’s hypocritical,” Gina said looking obviously at Clarke. Clarke reached behind her and threw a pillow from someone’s cot at Gina’s head, which Gina easily dodged. 

Footprints echoed down the hallway to reveal their missing initiates, winded and laughing. Echo’s eyes were alight with joy. “I did a full lap before I had to jump out to dodge security.” Everyone cheered for her and then recreated their same circle. 

“My turn,” Lexa said smirking; she was sitting directly across from Clarke. “Okay Stiff, me and Luna have a bet going that you can’t kiss someone until marriage, and I could really use those five credits off of her.” Clarke’s heart felt caught in her throat. Lexa arched her eyebrow before continuing. “So I dare you to kiss me.”

With Bellamy, it didn’t matter what she had done before because even his hand on top of hers created a more intense emotion than any kiss she ever had. But here, in the circle of Dauntless initiates who had stripped and stolen with no inhibitions, she felt like a Stiff. Clarke felt ashamed of her inexperience. Of course, Lexa was also beautiful and Clarke was attracted to women. Lexa got on her knees and crawled to the center of the group. 

Clarke found her voice at last. “Just so you know, this isn’t embarrassing. I’m bi.” 

Lexa looked down at Clarke’s lips and her voice came out low, sending a hollow pang of want through Clarke. “I know.” 

Clarke’s stomach clenched and she numbly met Lexa in the circle’s center. She pressed her lips to Lexa’s and found herself overwhelmed by the dizzying sensation: Lexa was easily the best kisser out of Clarke’s limited pool. Before Clarke could lose herself, she thought of Bellamy’s hand on her own last night at the chasm and pulled back. The room cheered for her. 

“Cummon, she’s not a Stiff. She’s here after all,” Someone said behind Lexa. 

Lexa smiled before reclining back on her haunches. “You’re right. Point proven. Luna, you owe me five credits.” 

Clarke sat back down, feeling dazed. Gina nudged her and whispered in her ear. “Too many beautiful Dauntless, too little time.” 

Clarke laughed at the absurdity of Gina’s statement.  _ Yes, the virgin Abnegation transfer who hadn’t been kissed in over a year was clearly a heartthrob.  _

Despite the warming feeling of Lexa’s lips on hers and the faint desire she felt during their kiss, she laid awake that night wondering how it would feel to embrace Bellamy. Not Trainer Blake, but the person who pleaded with Clarke to keep her head down and be safe. The man who disagreed with the new Dauntless order and lit up every time he talked to his younger sister. 

Clarke ran her thumb over his note, still in her pocket, and smiled before dozing off. 


	4. First Party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the couple day's delay! I started a new job this week. Enjoy some Bellarke fluff ;)

##  Chapter Four: First Party

“There has been a change of schedule.” Lincoln looked annoyed as he addressed the group of initiates the next morning. “Leaders Indra and Diyoza want to watch the second round transfer fights, but aren’t available today. You all will fight on Sunday. Dauntless takes Saturdays off. Any questions?”

Lincoln’s tone didn’t seem like he wanted the initiates to ask questions. 

“We’ll be reviewing knife technique then going up to the shooting range after lunch.” Bellamy added. “Pick a station.” 

Clarke and Octavia grabbed the closest two stations next to each other. Octavia effortlessly buried knife after knife in the center of her target. Clarke’s first several missed her desired mark, but by mid-morning she was hitting the bullseye as frequently as Octavia was. 

“Good work,” Octavia noted approvingly. Weapons training days were quickly becoming Clarke’s favorite because one, she didn’t have to get beaten up and two, the Dauntless-born and transfers trained together. “There’s a Dauntless party tonight to celebrate the end of week one of training.” 

_ One week.  _ Clarke felt like her life in Abnegation was years behind her. Clarke raised her eyebrows before tossing another knife, end over end, and grinned at the satisfying slink into wood. “Are initiates allowed?” 

“Only Dauntless-born or friends of Dauntless-born,” Octavia muttered. “And you count.”

“I’m honored,” Clarke scoffed. 

“That’s lunch!” Lincoln’s deep timbre boomed through the training room and Clarke didn’t miss the way Octavia smiled. 

Once they were in the walls of the cavern and far away from others, Clarke leaned into Octavia. “Will… Bellamy be at the party?” Clarke tried to sound casual but knew she failed. 

“Do you want him to be?”

“No, I was just… curious.” 

Octavia laughed loudly. “You’re a bullshit liar, Clarke.” 

_ Candor was one of the two factions I didn’t have an aptitude for.  _ The comment died on Clarke’s lips. It was too easy to let down her guard around Octavia, the best friend she ever had (if she was being honest with herself). Wells could only be as good of a friend as Abnegation let him be. 

Octavia wasn’t steering them toward the dining hall. “Where are we going?”

“If we’re going to a party tonight, you can’t wear your Dauntless uniform.” The row of fluorescent-lit shops materialized as Clarke and Octavia turned the corner. “How many of your credits have you spent?” 

“Uh, the five for the hair,” Clarke recalled. 

Octavia’s eyes lit up. “That’s it?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Go all the way to the back then, that’s where they keep the higher credit stuff.” Octavia lightly pushed on Clarke’s shoulder blades. 

Everything in the store was black, but Clarke saw the difference in fabrics. Some were shiny and tight, while others a blurred woven fabric. Octavia pulled items down seemingly at random before pushing Clarke into a dressing room. 

Clarke zipped the first dress up and immediately took it back off. It wasn’t that Clarke didn’t like showing her body, but anything tight felt garish and unfamiliar. 

“Are you gunna show me?”

“It was too tight.” 

“If you’re looking to make my idiot brother speechless, tight is  _ good _ .” 

Clarke zipped the dress back up and opened the door. Octavia’s mouth popped open. “See? Too tight--” Clarke moved to shut the dressing room door and Octavia’s hand stopped her. 

“You’re aware how hot you are, right?” 

“Octavia,” Clarke hissed, crossing her arms in front of her chest. 

“No, seriously. God, I would kill for your boobs.” Octavia looked sadly down at her smaller chest. 

“I’m not wearing this dress.” Clarke shut the door and pulled off the stretchy material before Octavia could force her way into the dressing room. Clarke shuffled through the hangers and realized _ all  _ the dresses Octavia pulled were tight, short and revealing. Clarke opened the door again. 

“I’m not wearing any of those dresses.” 

“Oh cummon, Clarke! You only live once!” 

Over Octavia’s shoulder Clarke saw another dress; it was fitted on the top with a v-neck, but floated away after the waistline, shorter in front and longer in the back. The black shiny material reminded Clarke of the wet cave walls. Clarke walked out and grabbed the dress and retreated into the dressing room. When she emerged again, she was smiling. 

“This one.” 

***

Shooting in the afternoon came almost as intuitively as knife throwing for Clarke, and for the first time of initiation, she was pleased with her efforts of the day. 

By dinner, word had gotten out in the female dorm that there was a Dauntless party and all of the initiates wanted to attend. There was a flurry of girls running around half dressed in the evening, with various beauty instruments strewn about like rubble after an explosion. Gina put make-up on Clarke and cooed over her new dress. Echo wore one of the tight dresses Clarke recognized from the shop earlier and Octavia wore a leather vest with tight black jeans and thigh-high boots. Clarke wondered if Octavia was trying to wear down Lincoln’s resolve to stay away from her. 

At some point, a bottle of burning clear alcohol appeared and everyone started sipping from it.  _ Why the hell not, _ Clarke thought before taking a swig of her own. The cavern floor felt more uneven through the slim rubber sole of the black flats Clarke bought to go along with her dress. The female initiates moved together like a school of fish and Clarke felt young, pretty and so very alive for the first time in her life. 

The party was several floors below the pit in an old storage facility. Crates had been overturned and repurposed into seats while lights hung from the metal rafters. The room was hot and crowded, filled with scores of black-clad Dauntless members. Clarke spotted Lincoln across the room and then Octavia was off, weaving through the crowd to get to him. 

“Need a drink?” Clarke turned and saw Finn. He had a black leather jacket over a t-shirt and jeans. Clarke admitted to herself he looked good. 

She noticed he had also been eyeing her appearance. “You look nice, princess.” 

This time, Clarke didn’t blush-- she accepted the compliment. “Thank you. I’d love a drink.” 

An Abnegation boy would never look over her so brazenly; it warmed Clarke to her core. She didn’t realize how muted, stifled and well-- _ gray- _ \- her life had been in her old faction. Even though it hadn’t been over a week in Dauntless, Clarke felt more alive than she ever had. 

“Cummon, this way.” Finn grabbed Clarke’s hand and led her through the crowd until they were brought to the back of an old army jeep. Clarke noted distantly that Finn’s hand was nice and warm, but she still wondered when she would see Bellamy….

A man with an eyebrow piercing and neck tattoos was handing out clear cups of red liquid. “Bottoms up.” Finn swallowed its contents to grab two more full cups. 

Clarke took a tentative sip of hers and followed Finn to a dark corner of the room where they sat together on a crate. “Are you drunk?” 

Finn put the extra drink down on the ground. “Nope, not yet. The night is young.” 

“Did they have parties like this in Erudite?”

“They were a lot quieter.” Finn smiled. “Getting drunk was like a science experiment there. Everyone would have one drink at a time and measure how they felt.” 

“How terribly responsible of them,” Clarke said sarcastically. 

Finn finished the contents of the drink in his hand. “I know. Very boring. How about you? We havin’ fun yet?”

Clarke laughed. “I’ve never been drunk.”

“Always a first for everything.” 

Clarke tipped the red juice down her throat and felt a fuzzy sensation spread through her body starting at her throat. “You’re right.” 

“That’s the spirit,” Finn said happily. He handed her the drink from the ground. Clarke took the cup and looked out into the crowd. 

Bellamy was staring at her. 

He was in the opposite corner of the room leaning against the wall, arms crossed. A rogue curl from his head fell in his right eye, but his gaze was tight and angry. If Clarke had to hazard a guess, Bellamy looked jealous.

Finn followed Clarke’s gaze and sucked in a breath. “Yikes. What’d you do to piss Blake off this time?”

_ It’s what  _ you’re _ doing,  _ Clarke wanted to say. “Not sure, I’m going to go find out.” 

Finn pouted. “You sure?” 

Clarke didn’t reply. She got to her feet and wove through the thick crowd until she was standing in front of Bellamy. His eyes never left hers. “For someone at a party, you don’t look like you’re having a good time.” 

“I think you’re having enough fun for both of us.” Bellamy’s tone was deadly and bitter. 

Clarke arched her eyebrows. A week ago, Bellamy’s demeanor would have scared her off. She would have retreated to her friends and left him alone. Now she knew better and she was more confident. Standing in a dress with short hair with a thin hum of alcohol coursing through her was the most assured Clarke ever felt. “Are you _ jealous _ , Blake?”

Bellamy took a step closer. “Please… don’t call me that.” 

“I call you that in training everyday.” Clarke pointed out, taking another sip of her drink. Maybe the alcohol was making her more bold. _ Maybe she didn’t care. _

Bellamy lifted his hand and hesitated before fingering a pink stripe of Clarke’s hair. “I know, but not like this.” 

“Like what?” Clarke asked. Bellamy was close enough now Clarke could smell him: it was charcoal, coffee and something unmistakably  _ him _ . 

“Like… you in make-up and…  _ that _ dress. And me…” Clarke took another step closer to him until her chest rested against his. She saw Bellamy swallow deeply. 

“And you?” Clarke prompted. 

Bellamy’s gaze traveled up from her chest to meet her eyes. He looked wrecked and the expression took Clarke’s breath away. Heat pooled in her gut and her heart felt like it would beat out of her chest. Bellamy’s hand dropped her hair and moved down to her waist. “And me, wanting to kiss you… badly.” 

Clarke gasped and pushed up on her toes, intending to capture his lips with hers, but Bellamy took a step back. “I can’t, Clarke. There’s too many people and I’m your Trainer.” 

Just like touch was new to Clarke, so was rejection. She felt tears pool in her eyes and she took several large steps back. Clarke drank the rest of her drink just to keep her hands busy and cover her face. “I should go.” 

Clarke turned but Bellamy caught her wrist. “Princess, don’t.” She turned back around and he looked so achingly concerned. His eyes looked like they were fighting an inner battle and he shut them before saying lowly. “Will you meet me in the training room?” 

The word ‘will’ echoed around in Clarke’s head… Bellamy could have chosen any number of ways to ask that question.  _ Can _ you meet me in the training room?  _ Please meet me _ in the training room? Or simply:  _ Meet  _ me in the training room. But he didn’t. He didn’t use his power as a Trainer over her. Bellamy was honestly giving her a choice, an out if she wanted it. It was Clarke’s chance to get out--to panic. 

And it was so tempting: because unlike Lexa’s flirtations or Finn’s charm, the raw chemistry between her and Bellamy was volatile. There was no way Clarke could prove it, but the energy flowing between Bellamy and her was equally likely to end in tragedy as happiness. She was a dead girl walking anyway: she was Divergent. They were doomed. 

Blame it on the alcohol. Blame it on the hormones that pulled her to him. Blame it on something she couldn’t name, but Clarke nodded ( _ whether she could navigate the cavern drunk was another question, but that wasn’t important right now) _ , and then realized he couldn’t see her. “Yes.” 

Bellamy pulled her close again to bend down and whisper in her ear. “Wait ten minutes before you leave.” With that, he pushed through the crowd out of her line of sight. 

_ Did that just happen? _ Clarke wondered to herself. The lingering tension in her body was enough of a tactile reminder that yes, yes that did just happen. Bellamy invited her to meet up with him. Clarke felt a small prick of panic. She had never done so many things…  _ what if she was bad at them? What if he laughed at her?  _

Clarke took two more drinks from the back of the truck and Finn came back to her. “Looks like Bellamy wasn’t mad at you.” 

Finn’s face looked slightly bitter when Clarke turned to him. “I’m sorry.” 

He shrugged his shoulders. “I get it. I mean, you like the scary siblings.” 

Clarke laughed. “I like you too, Finn.” 

He shook his head. “Not the same, princess.” 

Clarke remembered the rejection she felt only a few minutes ago from Bellamy and felt bad for letting Finn down. “Are you still my friend?” 

Finn smiled. “Of course. Us transfers have to stick together. And hey, if Blake is too intense for you, you know where to find me.” He put his hands in his pant pockets and walked away. 

Clarke knew she had five minutes at least until she could follow Bellamy, so she walked over to Lincoln and Octavia. Octavia was talking animatedly and Lincoln had a soft glow to his face, like she was his sun and the whole world began and ended with her smile. The beauty of it almost stopped Clarke in her tracks, but Octavia pulled her in. 

“Clarke!” Octavia slung her slender arm across Clarke’s shoulders, stumbling a bit with her shifted weight. “How do you like your first party?”

“It’s uh… nice. And different.” 

Lincoln looked at Clarke with empathy. “I understand.” 

Clarke’s mouth dropped open. “Are you from Abnegation?” She tried to conjure an image of Lincoln in gray somewhere in Abnegation, but he was three years older than her and they would not have been in the same school buildings. 

“No, Amity. Parties are much more… relaxed there. Lots of herbs, not alcohol.” Clarke nodded to show she understood. 

Octavia bumped her hip against Clarke. “Did my moody brother show his ugly face?” 

Clarke snorted into her cup. “Yup.” 

“I saw you two talking,” Lincoln said simply. His voice was slower than usual and Clarke wondered how many drinks it took to get someone as big as Lincoln drunk. 

Octavia’s gaze snapped over to Clarke. “Oh yeah?”

Clarke looked down at the floor, which was spinning, just slightly. “I’m gunna go, I think.” 

“Do you need an escort?” Octavia asked, her attention already turning back to Lincoln. 

“I’m good.” Clarke finished the cup in her hands and dumped the other one in the trash starting on her journey to the training room. 

Before she could completely make her way out of the door, a gentle hand gripped her wrist. Lexa was behind her, as beautiful and terrifying as ever in a long leather jacket and dark makeup. Given the ample amount of cleavage and her bare legs, Clarke doubted there was anything under the jacket. 

“Where you heading off so early, I thought you weren’t such a stiff.” Lexa’s eyes scanned Clarke with hunger. It made Clarke feel like she was naked. 

Normally Clarke would feel awkward and try to evade Lexa’s obvious flirtation, but she was buzzed and it seemed much easier to address the matter head-on. “I’m not… I’m meeting someone.” 

Lexa dropped her hand and crossed her arms. “Being with Blake won’t help your ranking.” 

Clarke could feel insulted, but she didn’t. Lexa’s tone was shockingly gentle and Clarke realized the girl pitied her: the virgin Abnegation transfer, the Stiff all alone, the girl who had been beaten in the ring… Clarke was pathetic to her. It wasn’t malicious, but Lexa was Dauntless-born and raised to recognize anything other than brute force and impulsivity as weakness.

But Clarke was anything but pathetic. She was such a danger to the faction system that even naming herself out loud as Divergent could get her killed. She stood up to Dauntless trainers and leaders. She had pink hair. She jumped first. She was Clarke fucking Griffin and she was going to make it through this initiation without anyone’s pity. 

“Have a good night, Lexa.” Clarke left without looking back.

Clarke ran her fingers over the damp cave wall as she walked still high on her dismissal of Lexa, and the discovery that she  _ actually kind of thought of herself as a badass. _ It was the first moment since she her Choosing Ceremony that she wasn’t worried she would make it as a Dauntless faction member. 

Clarke was practically skipping by the time she got to the training room. It was abandoned and Bellamy sat in the middle of the fighting ring on the padded floor. 

Clarke tried to climb over the ropes and ended up tripping. Bellamy’s strong arms quickly encircled her waist, righting her. “Easy, princess.” Clarke giggled. Bellamy’s eyebrows furrowed. “I’ve never heard you giggle. You’re drunk.” 

Clarke pushed his nose lightly with her finger. “Maybe. But I also am feeling very good.”

Bellamy cracked a lopsided smile. “That’s a tell-tale sign of being drunk, by the way.” His face grew more serious. “You  _ do _ look incredible.” 

“So I’ve heard. You’re not so bad yourself.” Clarke meant to nudge his shoulder with hers and move back into her own space, but she lingered ... and ultimately decided to lean against Bellamy’s chest instead. 

Bellamy rested his chin on her head. “How are you feeling about training?” 

Clarke couldn’t help herself, she laughed. “One day I’m almost dead hanging over a chasm and getting the shit beat out of me, and then I’m sinking knives into targets. Then there’s the whole ‘ _ shut up and do as I say _ ’ mantra and I dunno, Bellamy. I always thought Dauntless were nobel, but now I’m not sure. I don’t know if I fit in here, but I know I can do it.”

“I thought I didn’t belong in Dauntless either for a long time, but you’re right, princess. You can do it.” 

“You felt like you didn’t belong in Dauntless?” 

“Yeah, my aptitude test…” Clarke held her breath.  _ Was Bellamy about to admit to being Divergent? _ “... it came back as Abnegation. I’ve been protecting Octavia so long, the Stiff life seemed to exemplify that selflessness. I don’t enjoy danger and violence.” 

Clarke couldn’t tell for sure, but that didn’t sound like the entire truth. “You’re really good at it.” 

Bellamy didn’t smile. “Who we are and who we have to be to survive are two very different things.” 

Clarke lifted a hand and put it to Bellamy’s cheek and felt his grin. “I know.” 

He pressed a light kiss to the top of her head and warmth traveled down her body like she had been doused in hot water. “I want to know about your life before here… will you tell me?” 

It’s soft like his question before: _ will you meet me in the training room?  _ Clarke spoke and Bellamy traced small circles on her bare arm. “Well, it was me, my mom and dad and my little sister in Abnegation. Madi is twelve. She’s the reason I dyed my hair pink actually. She always wanted to color her hair.” 

Bellamy laughs a little under his breath and Clarke feels his chest move. “My mom works for the government, which you know. She’s the Erudite ambassador.” Bellamy froze, but Clarke pressed on. “My dad helps the factionless, works at an aid station. He volunteers for everything, it’s kind of annoying really. He does the aptitude tests every year and then--”

“Your dad does the aptitude tests.” Bellamy restated the fact with quickened breath. 

“Yeah?” Clarke pulled back to look at Bellamy. The gears in his head were turning and his eyes scanned Clarke’s face like he was seeing it for the first time. 

“I think… I think your dad administered my test. Does he have your eyes?” Clarke suddenly felt more sober and nodded. “Is his name…” Bellamy paused, trying to recall a long lost piece of information. 

“Jake?”

“Jake! That’s it.” Bellamy grinned. “Well now I know why you looked familiar.” 

“Is he the reason you feel like you need to protect me?” The sentence is out of Clarke’s mouth before she can stop it. Her dad knew about Divergence and here was Bellamy, a supposed Dauntless-born with an Abnegation aptitude who chose to stay in the dangerous option. It wasn’t unheard of, but Clarke felt like he was the same as her: uncategorizable. 

Bellamy’s hand paused on Clarke’s arm. “What do you mean?” 

Clarke pulled away and rotated to sit opposite of Bellamy’s body to look him in the eye. “I mean, did my dad input Abnegation for your test even though that wasn’t your result?” 

Bellamy’s eyes darkened and he looked away, his jaw clenching. His easy body language was gone and his posture became rigid. “You’re drunk, Clarke. You don’t know what you’re saying.” 

His reluctance only served to embolden Clarke. “I know exactly what I’m saying! You want to know what my results were? Abnegation.” Bellamy clenched his jaw but Clarke didn’t stop. “And Dauntless. And Amity.” 

Bellamy’s gaze snapped to Clarke and he gripped her upper arm tightly. “Don’t _ ever say that out loud again _ .” 

Clarke grins victoriously. “I won’t... once you admit you’re Divergent.” 

Bellamy sucked in a breath and released Clarke to run his hands over her face. “Fuck, Clarke. You need to forget that word exists.” 

“I will, once you admit it.” 

Bellamy was on his knees in a flash, face inches away from Clarke’s. “Yes I am. Yes your dad saved my life, and you’re going to get us both killed if you ever mention this again.” 

Clarke’s grin faded as she recognized the intensity between the two of them. “I’m not alone,” Clarke whispered and Bellamy’s sternness melted. “I thought I was the only one and it… it was eating me up inside, Bellamy.” 

Bellamy’s gaze flickered down to her lips. “Say it again.” 

Clarke was annoyed to find how breathy her voice was. “What?”

Bellamy’s voice was gravel. “My name.” 

“Bellamy. Bellamy. Bell--” He surged forward and crashed his lips into hers. 

Clarke knew touching Bellamy Blake would change everything, that’s why he gave her an out, she was still taken aback. His mouth pressed against hers with firm insistence and she opened her lips to him, embarrassed by the small moan that escaped her throat. 

Clarke fisted one hand in his curly hair and the other hugged the juncture between his neck and shoulder. Bellamy gently pushed them backwards until Clarke was laying down in the ring while he hovered over her. Something ancient must have sparked in Clarke, because her legs wrapped around his hips on their own accord. Bellamy’s lips trailed down her neck and followed the v-neck of her dress. When he grazed the top of her breasts, Clarke let out a sharp gasp. 

Bellamy looked up and his lust-filled eyes softened. He pulled himself back up until his face hovered inches from hers and his elbows pushed into the mat on either side of her head. “You don’t know how long I wanted to do that for.” 

“Finn will be so disappointed. And Lexa.” Clarke teased. 

Bellamy let out a low growl before capturing her lips a second time. “Jesus, Clarke. Any other people I need to watch out for?” 

“No, I think that’s it.” Clarke grinned. Bellamy shook his head slightly before pressing his pliant lips to hers, dragging them across slowly, intoxicatingly. When he pulled back slightly, Clarke chased him and was pressed against his lips again. 

The next time they separated Bellamy’s hot breath said, “You’re mine, princess.” 

Clarke pushed her hands up under the back of his t-shirt just to drag her nails down his back. “And you’re mine.” 

They stayed like that for a while, Bellamy hovering over her on the mat occasionally leaning down to kiss her or trace her face. Between kisses, Clarke told him how out of place she felt growing up in Abnegation and about how she missed Madi. He talked about raising Octavia, mentioning he never knew his dad and his mother left Dauntless when he was fourteen. There was the undercurrent of their deadly secret threading them together, pumping in the background like blood traveling to the heart:  _ We’re Divergent… Divergent… Divergent... _


	5. Round Two

The high of kissing Bellamy had not worn off by Sunday morning. Only the intimidating faces of Indra and Diyoza waiting in the training center managed to bring Clarke back down to Earth. Lincoln spoke while Bellamy stood slightly behind him. “As I said, Indra and Diyoza are here to observe the transfer match-ups.”

“We haven’t had as much experience with you as your Dauntless-born counterparts.” Indra added, her face an immobile mask. 

“And the last time I was here, I wasn’t very impressed.” Diyoza made the comment at the group, but her eyes lingered on Clarke. “I want to be proved wrong, otherwise… we could cut all the transfers.” 

_All the transfers could be cut and it could be her fault._ Clarke’s mouth popped open and it’s only after a nudge from Octavia she shut it.  Bellamy’s threats to stay quiet and follow orders ring in her head. When she catches his graze, he’s worried. 

“First match-up is Clarke and Gina.” 

Of course it’s Gina, one of the handful of people Clarke called her friend in training. She knew it was a possibility, but she wished she had been matched against Trina instead. Gina looked at her apologetically before moving to the center of the room. Clarke took a deep breath and wove through the ring’s ropes to stand on the floor in her fight stance. Without her permission, her thoughts wander to Friday night on this floor, when Bellamy was pressed against her with his hot lips on…

“Set yourselves.” Lincoln gives the order and Bellamy’s head snaps to him. Lincoln’s tone is off and Clarke wonders how much control he has over this situation. 

Clarke brought her arms up to protect her face and something crossed her mind: Diyoza punished her for talking back to Bellamy and the faction government wanted to kill Divergents. She would never really fit in here, because she wasn't Dauntless: Clarke was a dead girl walking. Why bring her friends down with her? Clarke should let Gina win this fight and advance in the rankings-- maybe she could make it through initiation and live a full life on the Dauntless compound. 

“Go.” 

Gina’s face turned more serious and she lunged forward. Clarke dodged her first punch but let Gina’s kick land, even though she had plenty of time to block. The force knocked Clarke to her knees. Gina landed her next hook to Clarke’s jaw (at least it was the opposite side that Echo hit last week). Clarke sprawled across the mat and brought herself to her elbows. Outside of the ring, Lincoln and the Dauntless leaders watch intensely. Bellamy looked at the floor. Murphy smiled from the front row. 

Clarke lunged forward. Gina danced away. Clarke tried to punch Gina’s jaw, but her arm was caught. Gina moved forward and dominated Clarke in a headlock. The room started to blur but Clarke freed herself with a well-aimed stomp on Gina’s foot. 

“Cummon, stop playing with each other.” Diyoza egged them on and Clarke wasn’t surprised. 

Clarke was being told to punch her _friend_ unconscious by a leader who was supposed to inspire bravery and teach the younger generation how to protect the city. _How fucked up was that?_ Being Dauntless used to mean being brave and wise-- analyzing the enemy and knowing when to give up. Thinking through defense strategies rather than relying on brute force. Suddenly it felt morally appropriate to lose. 

Clarke dropped her hands from her face and raised them out to her sides. The room erupted in whispers as the initiates tried to decipher what the hell Clarke was doing. Gina stopped for a moment before punching Clarke in the stomach.

The punch was hesitant and Diyoza was not satisfied. “Finish her!” 

Gina looked conflicted but delivered another blow. Clarke kept her arms aloft, not attempting to move. The next punch brought her to her knees again, this time accompanied by a ringing in her right ear. 

Bellamy’s disappointed face is the last thing Clarke sees before getting kicked unconscious. 

  
  


* * *

When Clarke woke up it was dark in the medical bay and Gina was sleeping next to her in a visitor’s chair. Clarke shifted and the girl’s eyes darted open. “Clarke, oh my god. Thank god. I was so worried. I’m so sorry. I’m so _so_ sorry. I was worried about impressing the Dauntless leaders and Diyoza kept yelling at me to go and you weren’t fighting back! And--”

“Breathe, Gina.” Clarke’s voice was raspy but she was surprised that she couldn’t feel any pain. Maybe she was right and Dauntless did have high dose pain medication. Gina brought a straw up to Clarke’s lips and she drank several sips from it, wetting her throat. 

“I lost on purpose. I’m not going to fight my friends anymore.” 

Clarke noticed Gina was crying. “I’m not either. I’m going to see if Erudite will take me back. I was always in the top at school and I know I could pass their initiation test--”

“They won’t.” Clarke spoke the fact because it was true.  _ Faction over blood. Order over chaos.  _ No one was allowed to transfer factions after the Choosing Ceremony. 

Gina openly sobbed. “I can’t do this anymore. I’m not cut out for it.” 

“Yes you can. You’ve won a match-up now, it’s going to move you up the rankings.” 

Gina wiped her eyes. “I don’t give a shit about the rankings. Sorry, I can’t believe you’re comforting me after I beat you up.” 

Clarke laughed. “Stranger things have happened. And being Dauntless is better than factionless.” 

Gina gave her a watery smile. “You’re right. I’m being stupid.” 

“Do you mind if I have a minute with Clarke?” Clarke grinned at Bellamy’s interruption. Gina stood up immediately to reveal him.

“Of course, Trainer Blake. I’ll come back in the morning.” Gina squeezed Clarke’s hand and left. 

Bellamy quickly took her place. “You look like shit.” 

“Good to see you too. Do you know what’s wrong with me? I can’t feel anything with these meds.”

Bellamy’s grin dimmed but didn’t completely leave his face. “I brought you here. You’ve got a cracked rib, mild concussion and one hell of a swollen jaw. Why did you stop protecting yourself?” 

Clarke snorted. “I’m surprised you noticed. You don’t watch me in the ring.” 

“It’s not something I  _ want _ to watch, Clarke. Especially when you just lay there and let someone beat you up.” 

Clarke hesitated, wondering how Bellamy would react to her plan of leaving Dauntless. She decided against telling him, at least for now. Clarke focused on part of the truth. "I'm not going to beat up my friends anymore. " Clarke could barely get through the sentence without breaking into laughter. A sharp pain stabbed her side and she cut off abruptly. 

Bellamy’s hands were on her in a moment, one on her arm and another gently pushed her down by the chest. “Hey, hey, hey we gotta take it easy, all right? Let’s not worry about it right now. The drugs are making you laugh, but your rib is cracked, so you’ve gotta rest.” 

Bellamy dragged the chair closer and gripped Clarke’s smaller hand between his two larger ones bringing them to his forehead. He looked like he was praying. 

“Clarke,” the raw quality of Bellamy’s voice took her by surprise. “You  _ need _ to win your final match. Please… let me train you, at night. After practice. I need you to survive this, Clarke. I need  _ you _ .” Bellamy was begging and everything in Clarke ached to concede. She wished she could see his face clearly, but the med bay was too dark. Maybe the cloak of night made it easier for him to be so bare. 

Clarke figured she didn't have to leave Dauntless now, not if if meant leaving Bellamy. Clarke could leave after she was healed and offer him the chance to come with her. And whatever he decided... she would deal with. Besides, staying here meant being able to protect the people she came to care about from assholes like Murphy longer. She'd find the right time to make her grand exit. “Okay.” 

His brown eyes, barely visible in the darkness, flickered to her mouth. He moved toward her slowly and kissed her gently. 

At first. 

But then Clarke snaked her hand into his hair and tugged on the curls at the back of his neck and he moved one head to finger a lock of her hair. His other hand traced her side gently, painfully gently, until he cupped her chin, holding her in place like she was made of precious glass that could be shattered. Clarke moved to fully sit up to press her body closer to his, but a cry of pain ripped from her mouth. Bellamy pulled back immediately, moving his hands under her arms to settle her back in bed. 

“So much for rest,” Clarke teased. 

They were both breathing heavily and Bellamy leaned his forehead against hers. “Sorry, princess. I got a little carried away. Are you okay?” 

“I’m great.” Clarke said honestly. It didn’t matter if her ribs screamed in pain or her head thudded like the river under the chasm. 

Bellamy pushed her hair off her cheek and tucked it behind her ear. “Good.” Bellamy’s head dropped to her shoulder while his hands clenched and unclenched on her hips, carefully avoiding her bandaged torso. “God, Clarke… heal fast, won’t you?”

* * *

Gina didn’t come back the next morning to visit Clarke in the medical bay. 

Gina didn’t come back at all. 

When Octavia visited before breakfast, she told Clarke that Gina never returned from the hospital. She left the Dauntless compound and wouldn’t be welcomed back. 

Gina was factionless now. 

Clarke’s already sore midsection sank.  _ Should she have fought back in the ring? If Gina was in the medical bay instead of her, would she have stayed in Dauntless? _ Clarke thought she comforted Gina last night and convinced her to stay in Dauntless, but she failed. 

The medical examiner refused to release Clarke that day and she started to get restless. The only good part of her quarantine was Bellamy's visit after curfew to hold her hand and kiss her until she forgot her injuries. 

When the med bay finally did release Clarke, her ribs were still a sickly yellow and green color under their tight bandage. Octavia listened to the nurse with rapt attention and vowed to help Clarke attend to her injuries despite their unrelenting training schedule. The first place Clarke ran was the training room to scan for her name on the rankings. 

_ 1- Atom _

_ 2- Octavia _

_ 3- Dax _

_ 4- Nathan _

_ 5- Murphy _

_ 6- Shaw _

_ 7- Wick _

_ 8- Trina _

_ 9- Finn _

_ 10- Atohl _

_ 11- Cage _

_ 12- Lexa _

_ 13- Eric _

_ 14- Luna _

_ 15- Echo _

_ 16- Myles _

_ 17- Nyko _

_ 18- Bryan _

_ 19- Chase _

_ 20- Otan _

_ 21- James _

_ 22- Cassius _

_ 23- Anya _

_ 24- Nelson _

_ 25- Lee _

_ 26- Clarke _

_ 27- Nia _

_ 28- Ontari _

_ 29- Macallan _

Clarke’s was 26th on the initiate list, her name emblazoned in red below the cut line. Apparently her proficiency with a knife was less valuable than her ability to beat her friends to a pulp, but Clarke found she didn't care very much. 

Bellamy came close behind Clarke but didn't touch her. “We’ll start training tonight, don’t worry about it. You’ll win your last fight.” 

“With a cracked rib and concussion? No problem.” Clarke’s voice dripped sarcasm. 

“Everyone grab a coat! We’re taking a field trip to the wall today.” Lincoln’s command boomed around the hall and everyone moved into the adjoining gear room. Unfortunately the jackets were unisex and Clarke had to roll the sleeves twice before having access to her hands. Still, she fared better than Octavia who looked like she was wearing a trash bag. 

“I wish I could opt out of this,” Octavia muttered to Clarke. 

“What, the jacket?” 

Octavia glared at Clarke. “No, the field trip. I’ve been to the fence a hundred times.” 

“Really?” Clarke had never been to the fence guarding Arkadia before. Abnegation did their work in the heart of the city, were the factionless were abundant and the government buildings were erected after the ground survivors were able to live above ground again when the earth recovered from the Great War. 

“Yeah. Not much to see. Just a bunch of Amity farms and fields.” 

“Move out!” Bellamy called and Octavia stuck her tongue out at his back and Clarke grinned. 

To get outside the Dauntless compound they had to climb tens of flights of stone stairs. Clarke was easily winded with her ribs, but Octavia stayed behind to keep her company. “Do you know Bellamy made me tell him everything the medbay said about your recovery?” 

Clarke almost tripped up a step. “I don’t know why he would-”

“Shut up. You’re a shit liar. Look, I’m happy there’s someone else he can focus on. Being the center of his world is… intense. I’ve been there since I was 12 and our mom left. I’m happy for you.” 

Clarke, for the first time since coming to Dauntless, slung her arm over someone else’s shoulder. “Thanks Octavia.” 

Once they were on the rooftop, the train almost passed. “Cummon.” Octavia took off at a sprint and Clarke had no choice but to follow. Octavia leaped effortlessly into the last open car, like a bird taking flight. 

Clarke clutched her ribs with her left hand and sprinted after her friend, throwing herself sideways hoping that somehow she would end up in the car rather than dead on the pavement below. She recognized Octavia’s sharp fingernails digging into her shoulders. The impact of the train car and being pulled in made Clarke feel like she was being ripped in half. 

“ _ AH! _ ” 

“Shit, you okay?”

“I think we re-cracked my rib,” Clarke wheezed. 

_ CRUNCH. _ A burst of pain made Clarke curl inward on herself and black spots popped in front of her eyes. 

“What the FUCK IS YOUR PROBLEM!?” Octavia screeched. Clarke’s vision took several seconds to clear but when it did, Murphy was unconscious on the trail floor while Octavia fought off two other Dauntless-born initiates. 

Finn jumped to Octavia's aid, but she snarled at him. Finn backed up several paces with his hands up until the male initiate pinned Octavia’s arms at her sides and the other started punching her back with violent abandon. 

Finn picked up the nearest object-- a discarded piece of wood-- and knocked the boy out (Atom, Clarke thought he was called). Atom dropped to the train floor and the girl twirled around and dropped Octavia's arms. Clarke saw it was Luna the lion who held Octavia and she can’t believe a female initiate would hurt one of the people in their dorm... But they were all Dauntless and that’s how Dauntless taught you to deal with your feelings. 

Clarke tried to push herself into a seated position, but her torso felt like it had collapsed inward on itself. Each breath poked a sharp pain behind her ribs. _ Was it possible to break your lungs _ ?

Octavia came to her aid. “Hey, think you can sit up?” Clarke shook her head viscerally. “Okay, okay, no sitting up. When the train stops I’ll get Bellamy and he probably has a med kit. We can rebandage you. Once I broke my arm and we didn’t have enough credits for a doctor so he had to reset my bones and wrap it using a broom handle.” Octavia smiled down at Clarke. “But that’s Bellamy.” 

Clarke closed her eyes and let the sway of the train lull her to sleep. 

“Clarke can you hear me?” _What a lovely dream she must be having. _“Clarke, if you can hear me, please open your eyes.” 

_ Oh Bellamy. Bell… Bell-amy. _ Clarke recognized his voice so she tried to open her eyes, but shut them again immediately after meeting the harsh noon sun streaming through the train car door. 

“Good, good girl Clarke. I need to look at your ribs, okay? I’m going to have to lift your shirt, just a bit. I’m going to leave it on.” 

Clarke felt herself nod to ease the anxious concern in Bellamy’s voice. She wasn’t afraid of him. 

“Okay, let me close the door first…” Bellamy left her to close both of the train doors and then sat back down. Bellamy lifted Clarke’s shirt with an exaggerated slowness, giving her plenty of time to react to the feeling of him touching her. The skin above her belly button was dark purple with angry red patches crawling in all directions. Bellamy was speechless for a moment, but knew he needed to push down his panic. Everything other than Clarke could wait. His fingers barely touched her skin when Clarke winced in pain. _Fuck, __it was bad._

Bellamy turned to his Trainer bag and pulled out a body bandage. He unraveled the entire roll and set to work carefully wrapping the material around Clarke’s exposed purple ribs. When he finished, he clipped the end over her healthy side and pulled her shirt back down. “We’re gunna stay here. Lincoln’s going to handle the wall tour.” 

“Noooo,” Clarke whined. 

“Well, honestly I was looking for an excuse to not tour the wall again, so you provided the perfect excuse.” 

“I… can go.” Clarke breathed. 

Bellamy laughs. “That’s the funniest thing you’ve ever said, princess. You can’t even sit.” 

“Don’t… kill… Murphy... for me.” 

Clarke could hear the smile in his voice. “It crossed my mind, more than once. But it sounds like Octavia took care of everything. Let me know if they mess with you again and I’ll be glad to.” 

“Good,” Clarke sighed. She turned over onto her side, trying to feet comfortable only to toss back. 

“Come here, princess.” Bellamy’s gentle hands cradled Clarke’s head and lifted her over his lap. She shuffled her body over and curls into Bellamy, feeling content with her head on his thigh. 

* * *

Clarke woke up in the medbay. Again.

Bellamy is there.  _ Again _ . 

“I just got out of here.” Clarke complained. 

Bellamy chuckled. “Yeah I know. I think they’re going to name a wing after you. I think you set a new record--”

“Okay, shut up--”

“Most nights spent in the med bay by an initiate.” Clarke moved her arm closest to Bellamy in a very faint attempt at punching him. “That’s pretty sad.” 

“I’m fine. I should go back to the dorms.” Clarke tried to get up, even got as far as throwing the blanket off, but was stopped by the needles and tubes sunk in her arms. 

Bellamy pushed her back down. 

Again. 

“You really can’t. Visitor’s Day is tomorrow, so they pumped you full of the top tier pain meds and healing serums. They don’t want you to look so…”

“Beautiful?”

“Damaged,” Bellamy went on. “It’s not a good look for publicity, with all the different factions coming to see their kids tomorrow.” 

“So they were holding back before? With the meds? That’s rude.” Clarke’s voice was slow and slurred.

“This stuff gives you a nasty hangover from the withdrawal. You’re gunna feel like death warmed up tomorrow, but you won’t have any bruises.” 

“Well that’s something to look forward to.”

Bellamy started rubbing his thumb over her forehead. “How can you be so cute and look like trash at the same time?”

“How can I be so cute and so low in the rankings at the same time? That’s the real question…” Clarke murmured, her eyes pulling closed again. 

Bellamy stopped stroking her face. “We’re going to figure it out, princess. You’re going to win your last fight.” 

Clarke was quiet, content to lay in silence but she could feel Bellamy tense next to her. “I can’t win my last fight. I can’t take the spot of someone who can make it here.” 

Bellamy shook her shoulders lightly until she was awake. “What do you mean, Clarke?”

Clarke didn't open her eyes. “You know what I am. I don’t belong here, I don’t belong anywhere. I should quit and be factionless.” Her ranking was below the cut line and she was sure her absence this week kept her there. 

“Don’t give up on me, Clarke… Or else we’ll  _ both _ be factionless,” Bellamy corrected. He slid his hand several inches across the hospital bed to link his fingers with Clarke’s. As always, she felt heat bloom across her cold palm and suddenly it wasn’t the bandages across her ribs making it difficult to breathe. 

“What do you mean? They’d punish you for me failing?” 

Bellamy was silent and waited for Clarke to understand:  _ Bellamy would be factionless because Bellamy would follow her.  _

“Oh.” 

Bellamy chuckled. “What did you think, princess? I was keeping you company every night because it was good for my health?”

“No, you can’t be factionless. I can leave in the night like Gina, you won’t know…” Clarke’s voice faded and her head lulled to the side, her neck exhausted in the effort of holding it up. 

Bellamy nudged her awake again. “Clarke,  _ please _ … you can’t do that. Not ever. Promise me.”

Clarke feigned sleep and felt Bellamy’s tight grip on her shoulders lessen. She couldn’t bare to look him in the eye and lie. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delayed update-- I rewrote most of this chapter. The plot's taking on a life of its own! I needed to find a way to express Clarke's self-sacrificing/hero/"for my people" quality more, hence the desire to leave Dauntless for her friends' chance to stay and yet not leaving yet to protect them for longer and refusing to fight.


	6. Visitor's Day

As Bellamy promised, Clarke felt terrible the next morning.Clarke’s head felt like it was cracked open down the middle and she winced at the small amount of light shining through her bedside curtain. She pulled herself into a sitting position and then pushed her feet to the floor, expecting pain to rocket through her ribs, but...nothing. 

Walking over to the mirror, she was shocked to see the deep purple bruising around her torso was gone and her face was its normal size again. Clarke smiled; a headache was well worth expedited healing. 

“Ah, glad to see you’re awake.” The voice was sharp, but not completely lacking warmth. Indra strode toward Clarke with remarkably long strides for a woman of her stature. “How do you feel?”

“Great, except my head.”

“That’s to be expected. Good. I have your Dauntless uniform and your family is waiting in the Hub to see you.” 

Clarke’s heart soared: her family was here to visit her. Although the novelty of Dauntless life distracted Clarke from the constant void her family (mostly Madi) left, she realized how desperately she wanted to see them again. _ They didn’t hate her for transferring factions. They still cared about her. _

Clarke pulled on the familiar dark clothes once Indra retreated to talk to the medbay team. The clothes that were once form-fitting and flattering to her curves now hung loosely from her frame. Spending almost a week in the med bay took a toll on the feeble muscle she built since the beginning of Dauntless initiation. 

Indra waited to lead Clarke down to the Hub where she eagerly scanned the crowd for a crop of long dark hair braided in Madi’s traditional style. But her father, Jake, stood in his shapeless gray Abnegation clothing alone. “Clarke. I’m so glad to see you.” 

“Dad? Where’s Madi and mom?”

Jake looked older than he did at home… _ was that really only two weeks ago? _ His grin dimmed as he responded to Clarke’s question. “Your mom had to stay for work. Tensions are high between Abnegation and Erudite. If she wants to keep serving as diplomat there, she needs to answer to Erudite’s every call. She’s been so busy she’s barely had time to eat.” 

Clarke realized her dad’s answer accounted for her mother’s absence, but not for her sister’s. In Abnegation it was considered selfish to value your family’s welfare over any other community members’, and having a favorite family member was indulgently absurd. And yet, Clarke’s heart ached for news of her little sister. “And Madi?”

Jake’s face formed a frown now. “Madi didn’t want to come. She’s been having a… difficult time since you’ve left.”

“What do you mean ‘difficult’?”

“She’s been having a harder time in school, acting out, all very normal of course for a girl her age dealing with grief.” 

“With grief?” Clarke said sharply. “I’m not dead.” _ Yet. _

“Of course not,” Jake said softly. He put his hand on Clarke’s shoulder and she tried not to feel uncomfortable under its weight. “But you have to realize to Madi, it is a great loss having you change factions. She has the next four years before she chooses a faction and until then she will have no contact with you. To Madi, it feels like you’re dead.” 

Murphy kicking Clarke in the injured rib was less painful than hearing Madi didn’t want to see her. Clarke wanted to throw up. 

“Please, let’s change the subject for now. I am here to celebrate with you, not to make you sad. I was also hoping there was somewhere more… private? That we could catch up?”

Clarke didn’t miss the pause before her father’s request and understands privacy would be necessary for whatever else he wanted to say. Clarke nodded once before grabbing her father’s wrist and leading him through the crowd. The pair made it to the stairs and Clarke started climbing, relying on her hazy memory of the party last Friday to find the empty warehouse it took place in. 

“Here,” Clarke said triumphantly as the door easily sprung open. Plastic cups still littered the ground and an empty keg was overturned, but her father said nothing. Jake leaned against the open bed of a dilapidated truck and Clarke came next to him. 

“How are you doing in the rankings?” Jake asked brusquely. 

“I’m 26 out of 29,” Clarke said flatly. 

Jake turned his head quickly to look at Clarke. “That’s not good enough to make it past round one.” 

“Yeah, you think I don’t know that?” Clarke spat. Being able to express negative emotions to her father without considering his feelings was a new experience-- her tone would never have been permitted in Abnegation. 

“Failing is not an option,” Jake said. 

“Is being factionless that bad?” Clarke asked. 

Jake sighed and ran his hand over his face. “In some ways, no. Many of the factionless I meet are happy and healthy. Many claim to have a greater freedom being factionless than belonging to a faction. But being factionless right _now_ is dangerous.”

Clarke sat up straighter. “What do you mean?”

“You’ve seen the papers and heard your mother discuss her work: Erudite is unhappy with the current Abnegation leadership. Erudite believes the Abnegation should be eliminating the factionless rather than helping them.” 

A gasp flew out of Clarke’s mouth. “Erudite wants to murder the factionless?”

Jake looked at Clarke, all lines and hard edges. “Not all of them. Just the Divergents. According to Erudite testing, the factionless have the highest percentage of Divergents out of any faction.” 

“I’m Divergent.” Clarke said quietly to the ground. 

“I know.” 

Clarke’s head was spinning. She was under the impression being Divergent was incredibly rare. Clarke thought her and Bellamy may be the only two Divergents of their generation, but her father made it sound like there were dozens. “How many Divergents are there?” 

“Known? About 500. Unknown… I have no idea. Some figures estimate up to 15% of the total population is Divergent.” Jake said all of this in a rush, quieting his voice despite the fact they were alone. 

“Why do the Erudite want to get rid of them?” Clarke asked. 

“The Erudite think the Divergents pose a threat to the already imperfect faction system. The Erudites want to eliminate the Divergent and then somehow usurp Abnegation to become the leading and governing faction.” 

“How do they plan to do that?” Clarke said wildly. 

“That’s what your mother is currently trying to find out.” Clarke could barely hear the sentence out of her father’s mouth but she didn’t dare ask him to repeat it._ Her mother was spying on Erudite. _

“For who?” Clarke whispered.

“There’s a group of us, sympathetic to the factionless and Divergent. We’re called the Allegiant. We are working to stop Erudite’s leadership--”

“You mean Becca?” Clarke asked eagerly, wanting to know everything her father did. 

“Among others. We try and protect the Divergent, so now I’m trying to protect you, Clarke.” Clarke’s father stood up and cupped Clarke’s face between his hands. His light eyes searched between his daughters’. “You need to survive Initiation, you need to stay in Dauntless. Your life depends on it. And the lives of people you care about.” 

_ Were the Erudite watching her? Did they suspect her of divergence? _

“If you’re found to be Divergent, Erudite will take your family and friends into questioning. One by one they will be interrogated or tortured until they reveal everything about you and themselves. Candor has a truth serum the Erudite have enhanced.” Clarke’s jaw dropped open. “I really can’t say more, Clarke. I’ve already told you more than I ever intended to. I have to leave.” 

Jake stood up suddenly and took three large steps toward the door. 

“Dad!” Jake paused and looked back at Clarke. 

“May we meet again. Be safe.” In a flash, Jake was out the door. When Clarke ran into the stairway moments later to return the sentiment, she couldn’t spot her father anywhere below or above. 

* * *

Clarke ran back to the Hub as soon as she processed the information her father told her. Clarke looked for Bellamy’s curled mess of hair and practically sprinted over to him once she spotted it. Bellamy wasn’t talking to anyone so Clarke pulled his arm from behind and lead him to the fringes of the crowd. 

“Clarke, what--?”

“Not now,” Clarke said. Bellamy knew better than to argue with her and followed her lead until they were in the empty training room. 

“What is going on?” 

“What do you know about the Allegiant?” Clarke asked. Once the words were out of her mouth, Clarke started pacing on the cavern floor, her mind too active for her body to sit still. 

“Who?” 

“The Allegiant,” Clarke repeated frustratedly. 

Bellamy grabbed Clarke’s arms to stop her movements. “Take a deep breath, and please explain to me what you’re talking about.” 

Clarke wanted to tell Bellamy there was no time for calming down, but her blue eyes met his soft brown and she felt the energy in her body still. Clarke managed to recount her conversation with her dad and by the end, Bellamy looked properly afraid for the first time since Clarke knew him. 

“They would take Octavia,” was the first thing Bellamy said once Clarke finished explaining the Erudite’s vision for a Divergent-free Arcadia. 

“They would take Madi,” Clarke countered softly, trying to remind Bellamy he wasn’t alone. 

He nodded. “What do we do?”

“We have to blend in, that’s what my dad was trying to say. I have to make it through Dauntless initiation. Being factionless would be too dangerous for us right now.” 

Bellamy looked for a moment like he wanted to disagree but eventually nodded his head. “Let’s start training you.” 

“Now?” Clarke whined. 

“You’re a full week behind thanks to your ribs. So yeah, I would say now.” 

Clarke groaned audibly but knew Bellamy was right. Her heart had been set on leaving Dauntless to minimize the damage her inevitable death would have on those she cared about, but apparently blending in was the only way to keep the people she loved safe. When Clarke practiced punching on Bellamy’s padded arm, he was happily surprised. 

“Dunno where you got this fire, princess, but keep it going.” Clarke briefly pictured Madi behind a cell in Dauntless headquarters and punched again. Bellamy swayed slightly from her force. “Good one.”

Bellamy made Clarke practice punches and blocks until her arms were so sore she could barely hold them at face level. 

“I can kiss them better,” Bellamy said lowly after Clarke whined about her pain.

Clarke smiled her first genuine smile of the day and held her arms out in front of her like a zombie. Bellamy laughed before walking forward and kissing up her right arm and then down her left. When he finished, Bellamy nestled between Clarke’s now pliant arms and gripped her hips with his wide hands. 

“Is the ring some kind of turn on for you?” Clarke teased, harkening back to their first kiss nearly a week ago on the same mat. 

“You’re a turn on for me,” Bellamy mumbled before catching Clarke’s full lips with his. 

Clarke stepped closer until her chest was flush against Bellamy’s. She scraped her hands lightly down his back before running her hands under his black t-shirt against the smooth skin beneath. Bellamy paused, shooting Clarke a wicked grin before pulling the shirt up and over his head. Clarke took her time looking at his well-defined torso. 

“See something you like, princess?”

Instead of answering, Clarke reached down and discarded her own shirt over her head. Bellamy’s jaw hung open for a split second before he snapped it shut. 

“What, see something _ you _ like?”

Instead of answering, he stalked forward animalistically, like the time Clarke saw a coyote hunting a rabbit in the woods next to her house. He put his hands on either side of Clarke and lifted her with ease, tossing her to bring his hands under her ass. Clarke squealed and wrapped her ankles around Bellamy’s lower back to secure herself. 

Bellamy’s face was level with her chest and he took to his position with gusto, leaving open mouth kisses down her collarbone and in between each breast. 

“We should go, anyone could see.” Clarke panted. 

“We can go to my room,” Bellamy muttered, licking under the rim of her bra. 

Clarke stiffened her legs until Bellamy got the hint and let her down. “Clarke, I’m sorry--”

“No, it’s fine. I just… I think we should go.” Clarke ducked down to pick up her discarded shirt and took several steadying breaths. One moment her blood was hot and she felt spurred on with Bellamy’s every touch and then something would progress and she could feel herself snap shut back into the Abnegation stiff she’d always been. 

Bellamy picked his shirt back up and pulled it over his head, keeping his concerned eyes trained on Clarke’s face. She turned to walk out of the ring and Bellamy closed his hand lightly around her wrist. 

“Clarke, we’ll never do anything you don’t want to. You know that, right? I would do anything for you.” 

Clarke turned back around her heart felt like it cracked in two seeing the desperate look on his face. She reached up and put on hand on his cheek, watching in awe as he shut his eyes and nuzzled into her touch. “I know. Old habits die hard.” 

Bellamy put his hand over Clarke’s. “What habits?” 

“Stiff habits. I love kissing you,” the confession made Clarke flush but she continued. “Affection just wasn’t part of the Abnegation life style… we were always taught everything should be saved for marriage.” 

“And what do you believe?” Bellamy asked with a small smile. 

Clarke stepped around his question. “What did Dauntless teach you?”

Bellamy’s hands once again found Clarke’s waist. “To do whatever the hell we want.” 

Clarke’s blush deepened and she took a deep breath before speaking. “I want you.” Bellamy’s eyes darkened and Clarke almost didn’t add, “eventually. I just need to move slower, I think.” 

Bellamy brought his big hand up to cup Clarke’s face. “Done. Anything you want, you just let me know.” 

Clarke’s heart hummed in a tight feeling of happiness. She never felt like this about anyone before. The Abnegation part of her was terrified, but the strengthening Dauntless part was thrilled. “Can we get some dinner?” 

Bellamy smiled. “Sure.” 

They left the training center side by side. All the parents and families had left the compound by now; no one wanted to be seen as an adversary of _ Faction Before Blood _. 

At dinner, Clarke was introduced to another Dauntless favorite, pizza, and was pleased that Octavia and Lincoln joined them. \Clarke looked over to the other Initiates and was interested in the groups they had formed. Murphy sat with Atom and Luna, who was still covered in visible markings from Octavia’s defense on the train. A few of the other larger Dauntless-born initiate boys sat at their table-- Dax, Shaw and Wick. 

Nathan and Bryan sat close together, Clarke wondered distantly if they were dating. Most of the other Dauntless-born sat at their table--_ the less psychotic ones, _ Clarke joked in her head. She must have laughed out loud because Octavia asked, “What’s so funny?” 

“Nothing,” Clarke said quickly. She tried to hide her grin. Making fun of others was unkind and forbidden in Abnegation. 

Octavia glared expectantly at her. “I was just looking where our peers are…. They seem to have divided themselves by absolutely insane and only mildly crazy.” 

Octavia panned over to look at everyone and smiled herself. “Or by people who hate me and people who don’t.” 

Lincoln laughed and Bellamy grinned. “Being a female in the top five is rough.” 

“True. They were constantly getting jumped during our initiation.” Lincoln added. 

“As if we don’t have enough to worry about,” Clarke muttered. 

Octavia held her head up higher. “I’d like to see them try.” 

Bellamy snorted. “Easy O, save it for the ring. Your final fight is tomorrow.” 

Clarke started to feel panic. How could she win her final fight with only one training session under her belt?

Bellamy saw the concern on Clarke’s face and chimed in. “Your match is last, Princess. Leaders want to give you time to train and make it as fair as possible. Probably in three days, if I had to bet.” 

Clarke exhaled audibly. 

“It’s less fun if someone is knocked out right away,” Octavia teased. Clarke nudged her in the shoulder, her muscles still pulsing from her training with Bellamy. 

“That won’t happen.” Bellamy said calmly. 

Octavia looked between the two suspiciously. “Are you giving some _ extra help _ Trainer Blake?” Her inflection implied something scandalous and even though it was partly true, Clarke still blushed. Bellamy kept his face neutral and Clarke was envious of how easy it was for him to keep his composure. 

“Considering she’s been out of commission for nearly a week? Of course I’m giving her some extra training. She’d get pummeled otherwise.” 

Octavia looked disappointed at her brother’s cavalier response, but she spared a glance to Clarke that let her know the matter was not dropped and she would ask again later, when Bellamy wasn’t around. 

Clarke hoped after dinner she could retreat to the dorms, sneak in a shower and go to bed early. Her arms and head were still pounding. Her dreams were dashed when Bellamy cheerfully said, “Back to the training room!” 

Clarke groaned and Octavia laughed. “I’ll come, then you can have someone to spar against.” 

“Great,” Clarke deadpanned. 

“It actually is. She’s second in the rankings, and she’s in your weight class. You’re more likely to fight someone like her than me in the ring,” Bellamy said. 

“I can come,” Lincoln said quietly. 

Bellamy shot him a suspicious look. “That’s not necessary.” 

Octavia glared daggers at her brother and whispered under her breath, “_ hypocrite _,” so quietly Clarke thought she was the only one to hear. Maybe Clarke would be able to talk to Bellamy about his overreactions surrounding Octavia and Lincoln at another time. 

“I’ll take all the help I can get,” Clarke said. 

Lincoln stood up to join them. “Great.” 

The four walked in silence to the training room. Octavia jumped up and over the lines around the ring like a graceful, lithe animal. Clarke had to squat and pull them apart to force her way in. 

“What have you covered?” Octavia asked. 

“Punches and blocks,” Bellamy said easily. 

“Kicks?”

“Not yet.” 

Octavia nodded. “Kay, how about I try and land some punches and you try to not let me, then we can work on kicks.” 

Clarke nodded and pulled her sore arms back up to defend her position. Octavia was fast, darting out her fist without any indication of what side she would be attacking. The first to Clarke’s core landed. Thank god her ribs were healed or else she was sure Octavia’s punch would have agitated them. 

“Sorry,” Octavia said through a smile. Clarke soon got into the rhythm of Octavia’s stance and was blocking each hit that came her way. 

“You’re a quick study.” Octavia said once she ceased her attacks. “You could actually make it through the first round.” 

“Oh yay,” Clarke said deadpan. 

“Was that sarcasm? From a Stiff?” Lincoln interjected. 

“I’m Dauntless now,” Clarke corrected. She had to be Dauntless; she was Dauntless or dead. 

“O, you stay in and I’ll come up to demonstrate some kicks.” 

Clarke left the ring and stood by Lincoln’s side while Bellamy traded places with her. Clarke took a minute to observe Lincoln and realized up close he wasn’t nearly as intimidating as far away. His large stature made him formidable, as well as his buzzed hair, but there was a softness around the edges of his eyes and mouth that must be from his Amity background. 

Bellamy and Octavia in the ring together were comical. They were too used to the other’s moves; neither of them were able to gain much ground. Bellamy had the advantage of his weight and stature, but Octavia was fast, flitting between his attacks like a hummingbird. Finally, he caught one of Octavia’s high kicks aimed at his chest and twisted her foot, flipping her around and then easily shoving her off balance to the floor. 

“I win.” He said smugly. 

Octavia stood up and didn’t acknowledge him. “I meant to do that to show Clarke how high kicks usually don’t pay off.” 

Lincoln laughed, a deep chuckle that shook his chest. “Sure.” 

Octavia hopped out of the ring and came down to swat Lincoln on the arm. “Shut up.” 

“Come on up, Clarke.” Clarke did as Bellamy said and he walked her through the motions of different kicks while Lincoln and Octavia provided corrections from the sideline. Overall, it was a more informative and fun training session than earlier, even though Clarke would never tell Bellamy that to his face. 

“You’re going to be fine,” Octavia said as they walked back to the female dorm. 

“Who do you think they’ll put me against?”

“Good question. With Gina gone, I don’t think they’re sticking to the transfer versus transfer rule anymore, it could be a Dauntless-born. Since you haven’t won a match yet, I don’t think they’d give you a guy.” 

“Diyoza hates me.” 

“That’s true,” Octavia agreed. “But Diyoza hates everyone.” 

“Who do you think you’ll be up against?” Clarke inquired. 

“Not sure. Someone else from the top five maybe. They’ll probably put me against a guy. Better entertainment for them. So Bellamy’s gone full intense-protector-mode on you, eh?” 

Clarke scoffed. “Hardly.” 

“You know I had to talk him out of beating Atom, Murphy and Luna into the ground. He would have lost his job.” 

Clarke tried to remember Bellamy angry or upset as he helped her bandange her ribs, but couldn’t. “Really? He didn’t seem upset on the train… he was calm. Like, really calm.” 

“Of course, to the girl laying nearly unconscious with multiple broken ribs he had to be calm. He freaked out once you were in the medbay.” 

“We had it handled.” 

“_ I _ had it handled,” Octavia corrected. “But you’re right. Bellamy means well, and I love him to pieces, but he can be _ a lot _. I wanted to warn you before you got involved with him.” 

Clarke bit her lip. “Little too late for that.” 

Octavia gripped Clarke’s arm tightly. “You’re already a thing?! And you didn’t tell me?”

“Sorry, I’ve been busy being broken in the medbay,” Clarke countered.

“Fair. But, ah! This is great. You’re the best girl my brother’s ever been with, bar none.” 

Clarke’s heart sank. Other girls. Bellamy grew up Dauntless and the idea crossed her mind once or twice, but hearing Octavia confirm it out loud felt more real. 

“Has he been with… lots of girls?” Clarke tried to sound casual, but the squeak at the end of her question gave her away.

“No! Two. His first girlfriend was when he was fourteen, and that was barely a relationship. Then there was this girl in his class during Initiation, but they didn’t last very far into the second round.”

“What is the second round?” Clarke asked suddenly. If it was more physical than this first round, she didn’t know if her body could take it. 

Octavia hesitated and pulled her over to a dark corner against the cave wall. “It’s a fear simulation. You get injected and have to face all your fears. Most people have ten to fifteen, but Bellamy only had five. That’s how he became top of his pledge class.” 

Clarke’s mouth popped open. _ How sadistic was Dauntless? _ What would her fears would be? How many would she have? Would she have to watch Madi die over and over again? Or Bellamy? What about her new friends, Octavia and Finn? 

“That sounds awful.” 

“It is the first couple times, then you get used to it. Bellamy snuck me in before. I had eighteen fears. But I was younger, I hope I’ve conquered some of them by now.” Octavia gave her a small smile before they kept walking. 

“How did they even come up with that?” Clarke muttered. 

“Erudite did. It’s like the serum for aptitude testing.” 

Clarke nearly tripped over her own feet. _ Fuck. Would it work on her Divergent brain when the aptitude test did not? It worked on Bellamy, _ she reasoned quickly. So it would hopefully work on her. 

Erudite controlled more of Arcadia than Clarke expected. Erudite produced all the serums for aptitude testing, Dauntless testing, Candor testing and Amnity’s farm equipment. The only faction untouched by Erudite was Abnegation. _Maybe that was why the Erudite hated them so much._ _Would it be that difficult for Erudite to take over their society when their claws were already sunk so deep? _

Octavia didn’t notice Clarke’s inattention and they walked back to the dorms together with the final match ups looming over them.


	7. Final Fights

“How are you feeling about today?” 

Finn’s question was one Clarke heard non-stop over the last few days. Bellamy asked her each night after training. Octavia always came with her, serving as her sparring partner for Bellamy to critique. But usually she would leave them alone for the last hour or so, winking conspicuously at Clarke as she exited. 

“As ready as I can be.” Clarke said, tearing into her eggs and bacon. Finn nodded sympathetically. “And what about you?”

“There are only a few people left they could match me against, and I’m feeling okay about any of them.” It was true, the pool had narrowed drastically of those who still had to fight in their final round one test. There was Clarke, Finn, Trina, Eric, Lexa, Nia, Bryan and Myles: eight of twenty nine. 

The Dauntless leaders did not seem particularly troubled with urgency. They let minutes, sometimes hours, stretch out between the matches retreating to another room to discuss each of the initiates. The rankings were not updated-- they wouldn’t be until each person had fought. 

Clarke mulled over the potential match-ups for herself. Trina won both of her fights and was stealthy. Lexa and Nia were Dauntless-born and more lethal than Clarke. Ranking wise, Trina was 8th, Lexa was 12th and Nia was 28th, only dropping so low for the pitiful fight against her own sister. Nia would not be fighting her sister today and she would be out for blood to stay in Dauntless, her home. 

Finn waved his hand in front of Clarke’s face. “You okay there?” 

Clarke shook her head lightly to reground herself. “Yeah. Just trying to calculate the odds of me being Dauntless after today.” 

Finn stopped eating and turned to her. “You’re stronger than you think, you know. You hung over the chasm for five minutes. You broke your ribs twice and are still here. You’re tough.” 

“Thanks,” Clarke said weakly.

“I’m serious. You’re the goddamn first jumper! You can do this.” Finn nudged her arm and Clarke smiled. His positivity was infectious. Bellamy was intense and serious, which was helpful to hone her skills, but it was nice to have someone as a cheerleader rather than a trainer. 

“I appreciate it.” 

“I’ve got you, princess.” Clarke bristled for a moment at Finn using Bellamy’s nickname for her, but his easy going smile was ripe for forgiveness. 

“I’m no one’s princess.” Clarke said before returning to her breakfast.

“That’s the spirit!” Finn said between mouthfuls of toast.

Octavia sat down opposite of the pair with one hard boiled egg in her hand. “You ready?” Her gaze was trained on Clarke in a way that made it clear she had no interest in addressing Finn. 

“Well, good morning to you too, Octavia. How are those eggs treating you?” Finn quipped. 

Octavia turned to look at him, but did not respond. 

“Can we put a moratorium on that question? I’m as ready as I can be, that’s it.” 

“You’re going to be fine. If you get Trina, go for her legs. Take away her speed advantage and bring the fight to the ground. If you get Lexa, go for the face, her blocking is always way too low. And if you get Nia, well, you’ll win no matter what you do.” 

Finn snorted into his orange juice.

“It’s true. She only won her second match because her sister let her, and the leaders know that. That’s why she’s 28th.” Octavia ripped the shell off her egg without looking down at her hands. 

“Do you think you’ll be number one?” Finn asked, trying to force Octavia to acknowledge him. She finally turned after taking a big bite out of the rubbery egg in her hand. 

“Probably not, because Dauntless is sexist and believes male fighters are better than female fighters.” Octavia beat Shaw on the first day of final round fighting after a brutal 30 minutes. However, Atom and Dax had also beaten their opponents. The three of them were the only initiates to win all of their match-ups during the first phase of training. 

“Ouch,” Finn conceded. “I think you should be number one.” 

“Let’s go, Clarke. We can warm up in the training room a bit.” Octavia shoved the last of her egg into her mouth then started walking away. Clarke put down the fork that was halfway to her mouth and followed Octavia, shrugging at Finn. He chuckled and set back to his breakfast. 

“It wouldn’t kill you to be nice to Finn, he tries.” Clarke said once they were walking side by side. 

“He’s nice to _ you_,” Octavia corrected. 

“And you!” Clarke exclaimed. 

“Sure, but Finn isn’t nice to me for the sake of being friendly. He’s nice to me as your best friend so he can get into your pants.” Octavia said bluntly. 

Clarke colored. “It’s not like that.” 

“For _ you _ it’s not like that. For Finn, it is absolutely _ is _ like that.” 

“He knows I like Bellamy.” 

Octavia stopped walking and dropped her voice to a whisper. “Does he know you’re with Bellamy?”

“Not really, he just saw us together at that party a few weeks ago. Your brother is unsubtle when it comes to jealousy.” 

Octavia laughed, worry easing off her features and kept walking. “That’s true. I guess I’m as protective as him.... I don’t want him to lose his job.” 

“You’re the only one who knows.” 

“And Lincoln,” Octavia added. 

This was news to Clarke. “Who told him that?” 

Octavia smiled and looked away. “Maybe me, to point out how ridiculous it was that Bellamy could date you, but he couldn’t date me.” 

“Did it work?” 

Octavia nodded her head. Clarke let out a high pitched noise and hugged her outside the door of the training room. “Good! I’m happy for you!” Octavia gripped her back in a bone-crushing hug and Clarke felt such warm affection for her friend. 

“What are we celebrating?” Bellamy’s deep timbre echoed around the rock-walled hallway.

Octavia pulled back. “None of your business. Girl stuff,” she said defiantly. 

Bellamy put up his hands in mock surrender. “My bad. Are you--”

“Please, for the sake of my sanity, do not ask me if I’m ready for today’s fight.” Clarke groaned. 

“Wasn’t gunna. I know you’re ready. I was going to ask if you’re excited to be done with match-ups after today.” Bellamy crossed his arms and his muscled biceps bulged. Clarke found she had quite forgotten his question by the time he finished speaking. 

“Ew, stop ogling my brother.” Octavia complained, pushing Clarke through the training room threshold. 

Bellamy bent down to whisper in Clarke’s ear. “Ogle me all you want, princess.” The hot breath made Clarke’s neck erupt in goosebumps. Before she could turn around, he strode into the room and crossed to the other side of the ring, taking his place on the Dauntless leader platform. 

Clarke and Octavia walked over to the row of taped-over punching bags. Octavia ran Clarke through a warm up of punches and kicks, then took offensive position for Clarke to run through her blocks. When they finished, most of the other initiates filled the room and Clarke had a light sheen of sweat on her forehead. Octavia smiled and nodded encouragingly to Clarke who grinned back. 

They took their place among their peers while the leaders trickled in. Lincoln sat next to Bellamy, then Indra and Diyoza. There were two others Clarke didn’t remember by name, but one was covered in tattoos from his shaved head to his ankles, and the other had intense facial scarring like Indra. 

Diyoza stood up and everyone in the room fell silent. “Today is the final day of stage one in initiation. When we release the rankings at dinner, some of you will become factionless. If that is you, you will exit the compound immediately and a bus will take you to a factionless shelter in the Abnegation center. Those of you who stay, you will be celebrated. Tonight will mark a great achievement.” 

Clarke shifted her weight nervously between her feet and hugged her arms around herself. If she was factionless, she would die. Whether it be now or in the near future, Erudite would find her. She had to blend in. She had to survive. Clarke caught Bellamy’s harsh eyes and they softened for a brief moment before he turned away from her. 

“Our first match-up is Finn versus Eric.” 

Clarke turned to see Finn nod once before jumping over the cables into the ring. Eric followed. Both Eric and Finn transferred from Erudite, they grew up together. _ Dauntless leaders did that on purpose _, her head told her. They enjoyed pinning siblings and friends against each other to reinforce the idea that being Dauntless meant being ruthless. Dauntless wanted you to be a blind soldier, succumbing to any command. 

Finn stuck out his hand and Eric walked forward to shake it. The initiates erupted in whispers-- this was not a Dauntless custom. It struck Clarke as beautiful and right to acknowledge the worthiness in your opponent before a fight. She loved it. 

“Begin,” Dioyza said lazily and the room returned to silence. 

Eric started with a powerful swing that Finn avoided by ducking and landing a punch to Eric’s stomach. Eric contracted around his core, but didn’t let any pain show on his face. He threw a kick to Finn’s legs, but he dodged out of the way just in time. _ Finn was fast _. Clarke hadn’t noticed before. Next to her Octavia was tracking each move with a critical eye. Clarke wished she had grown up Dauntless and could analyze opponents the way Octavia could. 

Finn managed to get one hand on Eric’s collar and threw him to the ground. Eric scrambled to get up, but Finn threw his weight on top of him and forced a forearm on Eric’s throat. Eric surged up with a cry and flipped them, getting a leg on either side of Finn’s torso. Finn took a defensive position and blocked his face with his arms while Eric leveled punches into his chest. 

Clarke wove her fingers together and squeezed tightly trying to relieve some of the tension she felt in her body at the sight of her friend being beaten. She glanced up at the Dauntless leaders to gauge their reactions. Diyoza looked bored, Indra was fiercely focused, as was Lincoln, but Bellamy was watching Clarke. Their eyes connected and he quickly looked back to Finn and Eric. 

In a desperate move, Finn bucked his hips and Eric fell off balance. Finn scrambled to get his legs around Eric’s neck and even though Eric’s limbs were all free, his thrashing slowed after a minute of the hold and he fell unconscious. 

“Finn is the victor,” Indra announced. The initiates clapped and Clarke let out a whoop of happiness. Finn would make it through stage one of initiation. Eric may too, he was 13th in the last rankings; losing to Finn who was 9th may not bring him below the cut line. 

The leadership team disappeared from the room and several male initiates retrieved the unconscious Eric and hauled him to the medical bay. Finn staggered over to Clarke and she hooked an arm around his torso to help bear his weight. 

“How do you feel?” 

“My chest feels like I have an elephant sitting on it, but other than that, fine. It was a pretty clean fight. I did wrestling... as my extra-curricular in school. I tried... to use that instead of brute force,” Finn’s speech was slower and air pockets sat between his words. 

“Shhh, let’s have you sit down,” Clarke looked around for a soft, matted part of floor she could bring him to. 

“Nah. I don’t want to seem weak. I won, I need to stand.” Clarke rolled her eyes. “Plus, your help is much better than the floor.” 

Octavia’s words played in her head and she wished she could tell Finn she wasn’t only interested in Bellamy, she was_ with _ Bellamy. She appreciated Finn’s friendship but she wasn’t interested in him. “I think you must have hit your head,” Clarke mumbled. 

Finn laughed and she could feel his chest move against her arm. His laugh turned into a cough and his body slumped more. Clarke buckled slightly. Octavia was at Finn’s other side in a flash to help shoulder the burden. 

“Wow, a scary sibling is being nice,” Finn said. 

“Don’t get used to it,” Octavia chirped.

“What did you think of my fight?” Finn asked. 

“Your style is interesting. Dauntless never focuses on holds or grappling very much, and I think they’ll see that as an asset. You can take an enemy off guard in a fight. You need to work on your blocks. You didn’t _ have _ to get punched in the chest ten times, you know.” 

“Fair. Maybe you could help me,” Finn asked tenuously. 

Even though Octavia was dwarfed under his arm, she looked cold and dignified. “Like I said, don’t get used to it.” 

Finn was quiet but Clarke felt him inch microscopically closer to her. The Dauntless leaders re-entered and Finn pulled away from the girls to stand on his own. 

The initiates hushed when the leaders took their seats. “The next match-up,” Lincoln began. Clarke shifted her gaze again to Bellamy and he was looking directly at her, nervous. She knew his eyes well enough by now to know when he was anxious. This could only mean one thing: Clarke was up next and she would be facing a difficult opponent. “Clarke and Trina.” 

Trina was the highest ranked out of the remaining female initiates and Clarke felt her stomach clench. Clarke shut her eyes to remember what Octavia said at breakfast: _ If you get Trina, go for her legs. Take away her speed advantage and bring the fight to the ground. _

She could do that. Clarke opened her eyes and walked into the ring where Trina already scurried. _ She was fast. _

It was Diyoza’s cruel tone that said, “Begin.” 

Trina surged forward with a punch, but Clarke automatically blocked it with her forearm. Clarke took the opportunity to counter with her own jab to the throat, connecting with Trina’s soft flesh. She sputtered and fell out of her stance for a moment. Clarke took advantage of Trina’s distraction and kicked her squarely in the chest. Clarke wondered if being in the top ten initiates had made Trina arrogant or complacent, she was fighting at a lower level than she had in her previous match-ups. 

Trina recovered from the kick and looked properly mad. Her face was red and she lunged for Clarke’s throat with her hands extended. Clarke brought her arms up between Trina’s to knock them to the side, but Trina was stronger than Clarke expected. She brought her arms immediately back and managed to grip Clarke around her neck. Trina pushed hard and her thumbs dug into the hollow of Clarke’s throat. She felt the sharp pain, but had plenty of wherewithal still to think her way through this problem. After breaking her ribs twice, pain didn’t register the same way to Clarke, it was no longer distracting. Pain woke her up. _ Go for her legs. _

Clarke tested her footing by shifting her weight slightly and Trina mistook this for a sign of struggle. _ Sweep and push, _ Bellamy’s voice echoed in her head. Black spots started to pop in front of her eyes and Clarke realized Trina’s grip was tightening. 

_Now. _ Clarke pushed her right leg behind Trina’s and made her knees buckle. At the same time, Clarke threw her left arm out and shoved as hard as she could. Trina’s body windmilled backwards and hit the mat with a thud. Clarke wasted no time climbing on her and pinning her arms to her sides. 

Trina tried to buck upwards like Finn had in the fight before, but Clarke was seated too highly on her torso for the escape attempt to work. Clarke carefully moved her legs over Trina’s arms to free her own hands. Then, she punched. 

Bellamy and Octavia taught her well. After three hard punches to the face, blood poured out of Trina’s nose and she fell unconscious. Clarke stood up, breathing heavily and blood-stained hands shaking. 

“Clarke is the victor.” Bellamy declared, and there was an edge of pride to it that Clarke hoped, for his sake, the others didn’t notice. 

The leaders all stood again to retreat to their secret room for conference, but Bellamy smiled at Clarke before he left the room fully. A few people rushed to Trina, lifting her limp form and carrying it out to the medical bay. 

“It must be easy to beat someone when you have one-on-one training sessions every night.” Clarke jumped out of the ring to Murphy’s smug face. Octavia crossed the room quickly (considering her short legs) and stood between the two. 

“They weren’t one-on-one, I was there, dipshit. And if you ever wanted help all you had to do was ask.” Octavia snarled. 

Murphy’s grin grew wider. “It doesn’t matter. Who cares about training when you can sleep with your Trainer to get through initiation?” 

There was an unearthly quiet. Octavia opened her mouth to retort but Clarke stepped around her. “I am not sleeping with Bellamy,” Clarke said lowly. Then, she punched Murphy squarely in his large nose. 

Murphy howled and stepped back, clutching his hands over his face. Blood seeped through the cracks. No one moved to his aid, but he backed out of the room yelling, “This isn’t over, Stiff!” 

“I’m not a Stiff,” Clarke said to the room, where all eyes were on her. “I’m Dauntless.” 

* * *

After the last fight ended, the initiates were dismissed for the remainder of the afternoon. Dinner, and more importantly the rankings, were only hours away. 

“What are your plans?” Octavia asked when they were back in the dorms. 

“Lay in my bed and agonize over whether or not I’ll make it to round two?” Clarke suggested. 

“Screw that. Let’s do something. Cummon,” Octavia sprang up and Clarke followed, catching a quick glimpse of herself in the mirror. Her neck was bruised but otherwise she looked better than she ever had: alert, healthy, strong. 

Octavia wound them up several flights of stairs until they reached a heavy metal door. She went to the keypad and typed in a long code for the lock to click open. 

Clarke followed her quickly so they could shut the door again behind them. The two were plunged into darkness until Octavia located the switch. When the room was light, Clarke looked in awe at all the high obstacles around them. There were bridges forty feet in the air with spaced apart boards, swings, and other ropes that criss-crossed over each other in complicated patterns. 

“It’s a high ropes course. Dauntless uses it in training for guards who work on the wall. Bellamy and I found it a few years back and used to sneak in here for fun.”

“Do you clip in?” Clarke asked, trying to find harnesses or other safety devices. 

Octavia snorted. “No. You do the obstacle right on the first try.” 

_Typical_, Clarke thought. But the knowledge didn’t panic her like it would have a month ago. “Where should we start?” 

“My favorite is the flying squirrel.” Octavia grinned. She walked them to a tall post with metal spokes sticking out of it. “You climb up, then you hook in at the top and jump down.” 

“So there are hooks!” Clarke said. 

Octavia rolled her eyes. “We’re Dauntless, not stupid. You can’t jump from 60 feet up and live. But if you fall while climbing…”

“I won’t fall,” Clarke countered. 

“Obviously. That’s why I brought you.” Octavia smiled and then turned to the pole and started to climb. Her body moved effortlessly and she was at the top rung in under two minutes. Clarke watched Octavia throw the rope around her waist and hook into the tall bungee cord suspended from the ceiling. 

Octavia smiled down at her before letting go of the spokes and falling backward off the pole. For a breathless moment, Clarke thought the rope was broken. But then the cord snapped when Octavia was four feet from the ground and bounced her a few times before settling. Octavia hovered a foot off the ground until she unclipped and fell gracefully on her feet. 

“My turn,” Clarke said eagerly. When Octavia let go, the rope snapped back up into place and Clarke took to the first rung. 

“It’s a rush,” Octavia said happily. 

Clarke moved at a steady pace and slowed down after she glanced over her shoulder at the ground. Eventually, she made it to the top and pulled the rope around her waist, clipping it just as Octavia had. Her heart was pounding in her chest and Octavia looked like an ant, but none of that mattered once she let go. 

Clarke soared through the air, falling blissfully before the cord snapped her back up. The rush reminded her of her first jump into Dauntless. Octavia cheered for her once Clarke unclipped and they spent the next few hours trying out different obstacles. For a brief moment, Clarke forgot she was worried about the rankings. Forgot she was worried about dying and being Divergent.

Then the dinner bell rang. 

Clarke looked over to Octavia panicked, but the brunette linked her arm through Clarke’s. “Let’s go celebrate.” 

Clarke was glad Octavia oozed confidence because she needed some. When they got to the Hub, it seemed every Dauntless member was present. The crowds were thick and no tables remained. Clarke and Octavia opted to stand against one of the walls, where Lincoln quickly found them. 

“Good luck,” he said to both of them, keeping his eyes on Octavia. 

“Thanks, Lincoln.” 

Diyoza stood at the front of the room with a blank board behind her. “We will now reveal the first round of successful Dauntless initiates. If your name is not on this list, you have thirty minutes to collect your belongings, say your goodbyes and vacate the compound. A bus is waiting on the west side to bring you to a factionless shelter.” 

Clarke gulped. The board behind Diyoza came to life, populating names and ranks once she finished speaking. Clarke scanned frantically for her name, ignoring everything else until she found it; she was eighteenth. Next, she found Octavia in her second place spot. 

Octavia picked Clarke up in a hug and swung her around. Once Octavia released her, another pair of arms wrapped around her. At first she thought it was Bellamy, but the arms were thinner. 

“Way to go!” Finn cheered. 

“Thanks, Finn!” Clarke said happily as he put her down. 

The Hub was a raucous echo of celebration. Clarke took a moment to read the list more carefully. 

1- Atom

2- Octavia

3- Dax

4- Wick

5- Bryan

6- Finn

7- Lexa

8- Ahtol

9- Nyko

10- Murphy

11- Nathan

12- Luna

13- Shaw

14- Trina

15- Eric

16- Echo

17- Myles

18- Clarke

19- Ontari

20- Macallan

_ Losing to her made Trina drop six places, _ Clarke noted. From the female initiates they lost Nia and Anya-- _ how would Ontari cope without her sister? _ In terms of transfers, they only lost Cassius from Candor. Clarke felt a small prick of pride; at least she wouldn’t be the only non-Dauntless left standing. 

Finn’s hands came to rest on either side of Clarke’s face and he peered into her eyes. “I knew you could do it.” 

Finn pulled her into a deep hug, wrapping one hand into her hair and the other arm circled below her waist fully. Clarke’s smile faltered for a second and her heart gave a traitorous lurch. Finn was kind and light, and his attention was flattering. Before Dauntless, no boy or girl looked twice at Clarke, (save Wells during their awful first kiss) and now she finally believed Octavia’s taunting about Finn’s feelings for her. 

A low throat clearing behind Clarke broke their embrace. Clarke wheeled around to see Bellamy, arms crossed and eyes trained on the floor. “Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt. Just wanted to congratulate you. I’ll leave you two to your… celebration.” 

Bellamy walked away and Clarke’s mouth dropped open. “Bellamy, wait!” She cried, but the crowd swallowed him whole. 

Clarke pushed her way through to a familiar side hallway and caught a wisp of Bellamy’s curls. Clarke ran, trying to keep up with Bellamy’s long strides barely keeping him in her sight line until she finally was able to grip his forearm before he whipped around a corner. 

When Bellamy turned around, Clarke barely recognized his face with its current icy look. His normal soft smile transformed into something incredibly inhuman and Dauntless. The words died on Clarke’s lips. 

“What do you want, Clarke?” The use of her first name instead of her nickname made Clarke flinch. 

Clarke was panting from the chase and her words came out desperately. “To talk to you! Why did you run off like that?” 

Bellamy glared at her. “It looked like you didn’t want my company.” 

Clarke was furious. She impossibly made it through the first stage of Dauntless training after spending nearly a week in the medical bay, after finding out Erudite has a death order for all the Divergents, after her mother and sister abandoned her. And here he was, storming off and stealing her moment. Fuck Bellamy and his jealousy. 

“If you think, after all we’ve said and done, that I’m interested in someone else other than you, than that is _ your _ goddamn problem.” Clarke spat. “Do not take your insecurity out on me. Not tonight, when I’m supposed to be celebrating. I’ve done nothing wrong.” 

Bellamy’s anger faded and he moved toward her. “Clarke, I--”

Clarke stepped forward and had to tilt her head up to meet his eyes. “You what? You don’t trust me? You don’t want me to have any friends outside of your sister?” 

Bellamy stepped to the side and started pacing in short spurts-- four steps to one side, four to the other, arms crossed all the while. “No, that’s not it.” 

“Then what, Bellamy?” Clarke huffed. 

“Why do you have to be so damn logical!” He yelled. 

“Logical?” Clarke sputtered. 

Bellamy ran his hand through his hair and gestured wildly as his voice climbed. “Yes! Of course, I trust you and want you to have friends. There’s no logical explanation for how I feel Clarke, I just feel angry! I feel jealous! When I see Finn near you, I want to beat him to a pulp. And I know it’s not right… that’s why I left.” 

“So… you’re jealous.” Clarke said flatly.

Bellamy’s voice was now quiet and calm. “Yes. I care about you, and I know you might not feel things as strongly as I do, and you’ve grown up differently than me, but...” He trailed off and shut his eyes. After a moment he shook his head lightly, as if he had decided something. 

Clarke’s anger drained away. _ Did Bellamy think that her Abnegation upbringing stopped her for feeling as deeply for him as he did for her? _Clarke felt his insecurity and jealousy in a new light. “You think I don’t care about you?” 

He shook his head quickly. “No, I know you do. But you’ve said in Abnegation things were different and you’re younger than I am. Joining Dauntless… it’s exhilarating.” Bellamy grinned, a long-away look in his eyes as if he was remembering fond times. “And maybe part of that exhilaration is…” He trailed off, looking away. 

“What? Dating my trainer? Sneaking around with you?” Clarke replied. 

He shrugged nonchalantly. “Maybe you’re not ready for something serious and you want to try things with Finn or Lexa, and that’s okay. That’s fine! I get it. But…” Bellamy cast his eyes down at the floor. “I can’t do casual, Clarke. I want all of you. And seeing you with Finn like that… made me realize it.” 

Clarke let the information settle over her and was in awe of Bellamy’s ability to lay himself bare, a raw confession of emotion. Clarke herself struggled to do so, but for him she would have to try. “I’m not looking for casual.” She said simply. Bellamy picked his eyes up hopefully. Clarke felt a small thrill at the boldly emotional words she was going to say, words that she had never said to another person. “I want you and only you.” 

Bellamy took a tentative step forward to reach for Clarke, but clenched his fist back to his side. Clarke could tell he was holding himself back to wait for her consent, so she rushed forward and threw her arms around him. Clarke buried her head in Bellamy’s neck and he fisted her blonde bob. She was lifted a few inches off the ground as Bellamy clung to her. 

When he put her back down, he was beaming. For once, Bellamy looked like an 18 year old kid rather than a frowning young adult. Clarke traced the stubble on his jaw. With that settled, Clarke returned to more celebratory matters. “I did it, I made it through round one.” 

“You did do it. I’m so proud of you, princess.” Bellamy kissed her once on the lips and lingered when he pulled away. 

“Thanks to your teaching,” Clarke whispered. 

“Anytime,” Bellamy said lowly. His eyes were fixed on Clarke’s mouth again and she felt the familiar rush of heat to her core she always felt when she was touching Bellamy. She moved her hand from the nape of his neck to finger a rogue curl over his forehead. 

“We should get back to the Hub. You can go first, I’ll wait a few minutes and follow behind.” Bellamy’s voice was still deeper than usual. 

“We couldn’t go together?” Clarke took a step back from Bellamy. 

He paused before answering. “Relationships between a trainer with an initiate aren’t forbidden, not much in Dauntless is, but if people caught on it wouldn’t look good… for either of us.” 

Clarke thought back to Murphy’s quip earlier that day. “Murphy said I slept with you to make it through round one.” 

Bellamy’s jaw clenched and his eyes flashed. “Murphy is a Candor asshole and always will be.” 

“I punched him in the nose.” 

Bellamy smiled. “Atta girl.” 

After another lengthy embrace, Clarke headed back to the Hub and back to her friends, letting herself believe for one night that everything would be okay. 


	8. An Act of Cowardice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Hello dear readers, I wanted to let you know this chapter contains a scene of sexual assault with non-consensual touching, it does not contain non-consensual sexual acts beyond touching. It's similar to the scene and attack on Tris in the first Divergent book. I've updated the tags in the fic to represent this. If you would prefer to skip this chapter, I will post an objective summary in the bottom notes you could read instead.

After stage one, the female initiates had been forced to move in with the male initiates. Dauntless needed the female dorm back to house their off-shift wall guards people and could no longer afford to waste an entire dormitory on seven young women. There had been eight, but Ontari packed up and left with her outcasted twin sister, choosing to be factionless with her instead of Dauntless without her. 

Clarke hated the open bathing quarters in the new dormitory and took to showering in the old dormitory at night to avoid unwanted eyes on her. Clarke waited until the room was filled with snoring before pulling herself out of bed and tucking her folded towel under her arm. Her feet touched the cool stone soundlessly. The cavern, which seemed ominous and foreign a few weeks ago, was now as easy for Clarke to navigate as her old Abnegation neighborhood. 

That’s why Clarke screamed when a set of hands gripped her upper arms. 

Another set of fingers quickly covered her mouth, but Clarke hoped to god her voice carried before she was silenced. The second set of hands jerked her head back until it collided sharply with a shoulder. A third person twisted and locked her wrists together. All Clarke had free was her legs and she tried to swing them back and forth to kick someone, _ anyone _, to give her some chance at escaping. 

“Take a left.” The male voice belonged to Atom, cruel and sharp. 

Clarke recognized the sound of the chasm’s rushing water source growing louder. _ No. _

She kicked harder, adrenaline making her thoughts sharp. The hand over her mouth partially blocked her nose, so she tried to control her breathing to avoid hyperventilating. They arrived at the chasm and her back hit the metal posts of the wet bridge. Clarke screamed again, sound barely escaping the large flat hand on her mouth. 

“We flipping her over or what?” Murphy’s domineering tone carried in the cave and Clarke could feel his hot breath on her shoulder-- he must be the one with his hands on her mouth. Clarke’s blood boiled. 

“In a second. I’ve been so curious what this Stiff’s been hiding…” It was Atom who said that. His hands moved from her biceps down to her hips and he caught the hem of her t-shirt between his thumbs. Clarke wanted to vomit. 

Tears stung her eyes when Atom’s ragged nails caught on her bare stomach. His knuckles were thick and swollen with the force of brutally punching opponents in the ring. Clarke’s body stiffened like a doll as Atom’s hands advanced up her torso. When his hands reached their mark and cupped her chest, the tears finally fell down her cheeks. 

Clarke was sure Murphy could feel her dampness on his hands and her shaking body. Murphy’s hands disappeared from around her mouth and Clarke felt him take a step back from her. Whether it was to get away from her or to charge and toss her into the chasm, she had no idea. But she wasn’t going to wait and find out. Clarke snapped her head back as hard as she could and felt a sickening thud as it connected with Murphy’s long nose, already damaged from her punching him in the training room several days ago. He yelled in pain and Clarke screamed as loud as she could, desperately hoping someone could hear her above the indefatigable water. 

“Shut the bitch up,” Atom growled. He finally removed his hands from Clarke’s shirt to reinstate his grip on her arm. He dragged one hand up her neck to cover her mouth and Clarke bit his hand. Atom yelped and his grip loosened. 

Clarke tried to pull out of the final embrace, but the person behind Clarke, bigger than Murphy and still concealing his identity, wrapped her in a bear hug from behind ,his thick and strong arms pinning hers to her side. 

“What the hell is going on here?” Lincoln’s angry voice cut through the night and immediately the boy’s arms dropped Clarke. Unbalanced and shaken, Clarke’s knees collapsed and she caught herself on her hands on the cavern floor. 

Lincoln grabbed someone and Clarke watched his fist cock back and punch the person powerfully. They collapsed on the floor and don’t move again. Clarke tried to pay attention, but all she could hear was rushing water and feel how cold she was drenched in the chasm mist in only her t-shirt and sleep shorts. 

A hesitant hand came to rest of Clarke’s hand and she instantly pulled away like she was burned. Lincoln’s concerned face swam in front of her eyes. He asked her something but Clarke couldn’t answer. Her tongue was thick and swollen in her mouth. 

_Was she in shock?_

Her view changed and Clarke realized Lincoln must be carrying her. _ Where would he take her? _ Clarke didn’t find that question very interesting because she frankly didn’t care. Anywhere was better than the floor of the cavern. 

_The metal stairs are familiar, _ Clarke thought. But her leg brushed against the material and instantly she thought of the chasm fence digging into her back as Atom groped blindly under her shirt... 

_Huh, they were already at the door. _

Light burned Clarke’s eyes as the door pulled open. Through her blurry vision she dimly recognized a shirtless Bellamy answering and his face blooming into a blind panic. 

“What happened? Is she hurt?” Bellamy reached out to scoop Clarke out of Lincoln’s arms, but he stepped back. 

“We need to put her down and not touch her, not yet.” 

“What the fuck, Lincoln?” Bellamy’s voice was dire, raw like he was swallowing dust. “What the fuck is going on? Is she hurt?”

“Keep your voice calm,” Lincoln snapped. 

Bellamy’s eyes stopped rapidly scanning Clarke’s body for blood or damage and focused on her face. His jaw locked and Clarke saw a deep, burning anger behind his eyes that scared the shit out of her. 

“You can put her on my bed.” 

Lincoln nodded and crossed the room before bending over and gently depositing Clarke on the bed. Her arms stayed locked around his neck like they were metal that needed to be greased. Lincoln gently put his hands on hers and broke her grip, tucking her arms into her side. “Jesus, she’s freezing, she might be going into shock. Bellamy, get blankets, sweat shirts, whatever you’ve got.” 

Clarke heard Bellamy’s feet rush around the room and it was only moments before a thick sweater was draped over her torso, followed by two blankets. The sweater smelt like charcoal and warmth that Clarke recognized from Bellamy’s shirt she stole one of her first nights in Dauntless. _ I love that smell. _

Her body relaxed slightly and Clarke blinked for what felt like the first time in minutes. Her eyes were burning from crying and Clarke distantly wondered if she cried all the moisture out of them. Clarke scanned Bellamy’s room. It was sparse-- only a made bed with gray sheets (which she currently occupied), a threadbare couch and a small kitchen area with a miniature fridge under a cabinet and a sink with a stack of neat dishes next to it. 

Once he was sure Clarke was warm, Lincoln stood up and pulled Bellamy away to talk. “I need to go deposit someone else in the med bay.”

“Who.” Bellamy’s voice was quiet, but dangerous. 

“Blake, I can’t tell you that tonight. You’ll kill him.” Lincoln’s voice was regretful, but firm. 

“I’ll kill him tomorrow too. Or the next day. Or the next. Or whenever I figure out what the hell what happened and who the hell did it.” 

Lincoln looked over at Clarke’s still form and lowered his voice more. “I don’t know exactly what happened, I just ran when I heard screams by the chasm. She injured two of them, so I punched the third and the other two fled. I didn’t see who those two were, but I know the guy I got. It looked like they were trying to push her in.” 

Bellamy was silent for a long moment. “I’m going to find out.”

“Just not tonight. I was going to go get Octavia too, I know they’re close. Maybe Clarke will feel more comfortable with her.” 

“Good. Get her, please.” 

Clarke heard footsteps walk away and Bellamy’s door slam. Bellamy bent down and sat on the floor next to the bed, putting himself at Clarke’s eye level. He forced himself to smile and to his credit his voice was warm, absent of any anger, when he spoke. “Hey Clarke, it’s just Bell. Are you warm enough?” Clarke nodded her head. 

“Good. Are you cut anywhere?” Clarke shook her head. “Good, princess. Do you need anything? Water?” Clarke shook her head. The room was spinning a little, but Bellamy looked calm so it must not show on her face. 

“Can I sit on the edge of the bed?” Clarke nodded and Bellamy pulled himself up. His left knee brushed the tips of Clarke’s frozen fingers and she felt nothing. No heat. No tingle. 

“Were there more than three guys, Clarke? Or did Lincoln see them all?” 

It was a hard question to answer with a swollen tongue and water ears. “Three,” is all Clarke could manage to say before her jaw felt heavy. 

Bellamy’s door opened again and Clarke recognizes Octavia’s light footsteps. Bellamy stood immediately to pull his sister in a fierce hug. “Lincoln told me,” Octavia whispered in his ear before letting go. 

“Hey stiff, move over,” Octavia said lightly. To Bellamy’s relief Clarke shifted three inches to the left leaving a spot for Octavia to lay. Octavia put her head on her palm, propping herself up with a bent elbow. “You wanna talk about it?”

Bellamy heard a sob bubble out of Clarke and saw her shaking shoulders behind Octavia’s small frame. His heart shattered as his sister pulled Clarke into a fierce hug and held her tightly. Lincoln was right: he would have murdered whoever did this if he learned their name right now. He couldn’t remember the last time he was this angry and it scared him to not only know the darker parts of his Dauntless nature, but because it spoke volumes about how deeply he cared for Clarke. 

He crawled back to the side of the bed, sitting down by the girls’ feet. He wanted Clarke to know that he was there for her without pushing himself on her. Octavia let go of Clarke and she pulled herself into a seated position, wiping at her eyes. It’s the first time Clarke looked like she was _ there _ and focused so Bellamy’s tight lungs breathed a little easier. 

Clarke’s voice still sounded distant when she spoke and it cracked over certain words. “I was going to shower in the old dorms and three guys grabbed me. They were trying to get me near the chasm. Atom got my arms, Murphy got my mouth and I don’t know who got my wrists.” 

“Fucking cowards,” Octavia spat. Bellamy glared at his sister and her face relaxed. His message was clear: _ of course they were cowards, of _ fucking _ course they were, but Clarke needed them right now. _

“Then Atom…” Clarke’s eyes meet Bellamy’s and she dropped them to the floor immediately. “Atom… he moved his hands.” Bellamy doesn’t know what she’s leaving out (_ he hopes to fucking god it isn’t what he thinks it is _), but he refused to interrupt her. “Murphy let go of me so I headbutted him and bit Atom. Then Lincoln came.” 

Octavia looked at Bellamy, begging him to be silent as she tried to get more information. “Did Atom do anything else?” Her voice was quiet and concerned. Clarke let Octavia put a hand on her shoulder without flinching. 

“I mean…” Clarke’s lip quivered as she tried to pull together a stoic face. “He touched me. Under my shirt. It’s not a big deal.” 

Bellamy sucked in a sharp breath and he saw black spots on the edge of his vision. His blood was hot and thudding in his chest like a war drum. Clarke’s cold fingers on his forearms were the only anecdote for the harsh anger and he felt his mood deflate looking into her wide, blue eyes. 

“Don’t,” Clarke said softly. “Don’t go after them.” Bellamy bit the side of his cheek _ hard _ until the metallic slosh of blood flooded his mouth.“I need you here.” 

_Well fuck_. Bellamy didn’t think he could deny Clarke anything ever again. She wholly captured his heart. He didn’t know he could have such an emotional reaction to someone. He bent down, slowly (_slow enough for her to flinch or stop him) _ before he placed one gentle kiss on her knuckles. “Of course, princess.” 

* * *

The next morning, Octavia woke up first. Clarke twisted away from the center of the bed in the middle of the night and was on the very edge of her side, arms hugging her torso like a shield. Octavia noted the twisted blanket in her hand and worried Clarke was reliving her horrific night in her dreams. Bellamy was passed out with an arm over his eyes on the couch. Octavia decided to visit the mess hall and bring back breakfast for the three of them, sneaking out while the other two slept. Bellamy shifted and sun hit his closed lids. He stirred before sitting up and saw Clarke alone in his bed. It’s a sight he pictured hundreds of times now, but his daydreams were never marred with the darkness. 

Bellamy took a moment to examine his anger and found it settled into something ancient. Gone was the red hot urge to punch Atom and Murphy until their noses oozed blood, replaced with the calm knowledge that he could help deliver a more smart and permanent pain: he could drop their rankings and make them factionless. 

Clarke stirred and Bellamy shot to his feet. He was over to her side before her eyes opened. “Are you a morning person?” 

Clarke’s sleepy question took Bellamy so aback he laughed. “Yes.” 

“We’re gunna have to figure that out,” Clarke said through her thick voice.

Normally, Bellamy would feel ecstatic to hear Clarke referring to them as a ‘we,’ but he noticed she was deflecting. “How do you feel, princess?”

“Sore,” she said honestly. Clarke tried to sit up and winced. 

“Hey hey hey,” Bellamy whispered. “Rest, you don’t need to move yet.” 

“At least it’s not my ribs.” Clarke joked. 

“I have some gel that helps bruises,” Bellamy said suddenly, relieved to be useful. He got the small metal tin from his megar kitchen cabinet and returned to the foot of the bed. He cast off the lid and dug his two fingers in the slightly green tinged cream and reached toward Clarke. 

Clarke scurried backwards until her back hit the wall and then she started hyperventilating, eyes shrinking to small points swimming in white. Bellamy drew his hand back and held both arms up, freezing in place. “It’s okay, Clarke, it’s me. It’s Bellamy. You’re safe. I just want to help.” 

Clarke’s breathing slowed until her eyes focused on Bellamy’s face, truly seeing him. When her taut body relaxed, tears started falling and she buried her face in her hands. Bellamy shook with the effort of staying in place, not wanting to trigger her more but aching to hold her. Bellamy wanted to throw his body between her and her demons to take her pain. 

“Bellamy, I’m so… I’m so sorry.” Her red rimmed eyes flashed for a second between her forearms and Bellamy couldn’t hold back any longer. 

Bellamy shut his eyes and asked desperately, “Can I hug you, Clarke?” 

She nodded vigorously and he flung himself forward, quickly gathering her in his arms. She shook violently as she heaved out the sobs that resurfaced like a tsunami after an earthquake. All Bellamy could do was mutter assurances in her ear and rock her slowly. When she cried herself out, Clarke’s body was limp in her arms. 

“Can we put gel on your bruises now?” Bellamy whispered softly in her ear. Clarke nodded. “Okay, where are they?” He asked quietly, reaching behind his back to pick the discarded tin back up. 

“Arms.” 

Clarke’s black long sleeve shirt covered the damage, but she broke from Bellamy to pull it off, leaving her in her Dauntless issued thick sports bra. There were deep blue bruises on her upper arms and wrists, a ghastly contrast against her white skin. 

Bellamy set to the task in front of him and gently handled each dark spot. Clarke was silent as the cooling sensation spread over her skin. “Anywhere else?” Bellamy asked once he finished. 

Clarke pulled down the hem of her sports bra to show fingerprint bruises on the tops of her chest. “I’ll do these,” she said quietly. 

Bellamy handed over the tin to Clarke, not trusting himself to speak. He didn’t want to look away and send the signal to Clarke he couldn’t handle the situation, but also when he saw her wince as she applied gel to each fingerprinted mark he was seized again with unstoppable anger. _ They won’t be Dauntless. They won’t be Dauntless. _That motto was the only thing stopping him from flying off the bed and hunting them down. 

Clarke paused and looked up to him, stopping for a moment and gripping his hand in hers. “I’m okay.” 

Bellamy forced a smile. “I know.” 

There was a tentative knock on the door and Bellamy waited for Clarke to don her shirt before answering. Octavia stood clutching muffins, drinks and other assorted breakfast foods piled high in her hands. A large, black Dauntless backpack was hanging off one shoulder. Lincoln stood behind her, arms equally full. “Come in,” Bellamy said quickly. He pushed all the random items off his small table so Lincoln and Octavia could drop their loads. 

“What do you want, princess?” Bellamy called over his shoulder. 

“Nothing,” Clarke said back quietly. 

Octavia shot her a sharp look. “Well, that’s not a choice. Muffin or toast?” 

Clarke rolled her eyes, but smiled a bit as well. “Muffin.” 

Octavia nodded and plated two muffins before bringing them to Clarke, still seated on Bellamy’s bed. Octavia brought herself a bagel and sat next to her. 

“Don’t get crumbs on my sheets, O.” Bellamy scolded. 

“Right, because I’m sure they’re freshly clean.” Octavia said deadpan. 

Lincoln snickered but quieted on Bellamy’s glare. The four ate in a comfortable silence occasionally interrupted by someone praising the food’s quality or making a small joke. When they were finished however, a tense mood settled over the room. 

Lincoln cleared his throat and spoke slowly, as if choosing his words very carefully. “I told the medical bay the three boys were in a fight amongst themselves last night and I happened to come across them while on guard duty.” 

Clarke nodded as she received the news. “Good.” 

“I didn’t want to say anything that forced you to talk about it,” Lincoln explained. It was kind, Clarke agreed. The more she got to know Lincoln, the easier it was to understand how he had fit in at Amity for most of his life. “And those three are more than happy to keep quiet. However, I can take you to Dauntless leadership and you can report it, Clarke. I’ll back you up. I’ll say I was a witness and explain why I lied this morning. I’ll take all the repercussions associated with that.” 

“Repercussions?” 

“Lying to staff is a punishable offense,” Octavia said hollowly. “He would be beaten.” 

Clarke sucked in a shocked breath. “_Beaten _?”

“Only until blood is drawn. Usually when the nose breaks,” Lincoln said. “It’s not a big deal, Clarke. Don’t focus on that. Focus on what you want to do. We’re all here for you. Do you want to report them to Dauntless?”

Clarke paused for a moment. “I only knew Murphy and Atom. Who was the third?” 

Lincoln looked away from Clarke and over to Bellamy before answering. “Finn, the Erudite transfer.” 

Clarke world tilted on its axis and her blood froze. 

“Finn?” Octavia repeated incredulously. “That doesn’t make any sense. He’s in love with Clarke.” Bellamy snapped his gaze to Octavia and she shrugged. “I’m sorry, it’s true.” 

Clarke was about to tell Lincoln it couldn’t be Finn, that he must have made a mistake, but then she remembered how the third set of arms wrapped around her from behind in an embrace that was so tight and calculated… like a wrestling move. Like a wrestling move that someone had done hundreds of times. 

Finn studied wrestling in Erudite compound after school for years. 

“He’s the one I caught first and knocked unconscious last night.” Lincoln explained calmly. 

Clarke felt her stomach contract and the small bites of muffin she ate seemed to travel back up her throat. She stood up and ran to the bathroom, promptly throwing up in the toilet. Someone grabbed the short ends of her hair as she retched again. 

“It’s okay, there you go.” Hands rubbed consoling circles on her back. Hands that were much too small to be Bellamy’s. Clarke leaned back off her haunches and collapsed into Octavia’s arms. She caught Clarke and encircled around her, rocking the blonde back and forth like Bellamy did only hours before. 

“How could he do that?” Clarke said brokenly. 

“I don’t know, Clarke.”

“I trusted him.” Clarke said. “I liked him.” 

“I know, I know.” Octavia said again. They were silent for a minute and then Octavia’s voice was hesitant when she spoke again. “We only know one side of the story… there’s a possibility Finn wasn’t trying to hurt you. 

The Abnegation side of Clarke ached to believe Octavia, for her own sake. Finn and her’s connection felt so real, so genuine. If that was fake… Clarke didn’t trust her own judgement. 

And also, what Octavia said made _ sense _. Finn hated Murphy and Atom. He had said so dozens of times, they ate every meal together. How would he suddenly be friends with them? The only explanation that made sense was Finn figured out what they were trying to do and had come along to stop them. 

Clarke stood up suddenly and walked into the other room, where Lincoln and Bellamy waited with grim expressions. Bellamy jumped to his feet when she came back and started to stagger towards her. Clarke held a hand up, halting his progress. 

“Before I decide what to do,” Clarke started. She was proud her voice sounded more stable and strong than it had at any point in the last 24 hours. “I need to talk to Finn.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Summary: When trying to bath alone at night, Clarke is grabbed by Atom, Murphy and a third person. They attempt to throw Clarke into the chasm, and Atom touches Clarke without her consent. Clarke manages to fight back and Lincoln comes to help her finish the job. Lincoln brings her to Bellamy's and also gets Octavia to help comfort her. After the shock and fear subside, Clarke needs to decide if she wants to report the incident to Dauntless. Lincoln reveals the third person's identity, which is Finn. Clarke decides she needs to understand Finn's motives before going before Dauntless leadership.


	9. Run Away

“No.” Bellamy was the first one to voice his opinion after Clarke declared her intentions to visit Finn in the medical bay and hear his side of last night’s attack. 

“We could talk to him for you, and report back.” Lincoln said quickly. 

“No, I need to talk to Finn. Alone.” Clarke said decidedly. 

“No!” Bellamy banged his first on the table and stood up. He ran his hand through his hair and over his face. 

“Bellamy!” Octavia yelled. “This is not up to you.” 

Bellamy’s face was red and distorted. The veins in his neck popped out. “LIKE HELL IT’S NOT! You think I’m letting my girlfriend walk into the room and chat with the asshole who first tried to seduce her and then tried to kill her?!”

Clarke’s mouth popped open. “Finn didn’t try to seduce me! And I don’t think he tried to kill me either!” 

Bellamy turned toward Clarke, but Octavia side-stepped between them. “I agree with Clarke on the second point, Bell. I don’t think Finn was trying to kill her. He cares about her too much.” Bellamy saw the logic in this point and calmed down, sitting with _ humph _ on his rickety kitchen chair. 

Clarke continued. “If Finn wasn’t trying to kill me, that’s a witness on my side. You wouldn’t have to lie, Lincoln. Then I could go to Dauntless leadership and get Murphy and Atom kicked out.” 

“And if Finn was trying to help them?” Bellamy spat. She couldn’t imagine how he felt at the moment. Clarke held his gaze, even though Bellamy’s buried fury was a lot for her to bear. Clarke knew her decision was about to open a rift between them, but she couldn’t act without knowing the truth. 

“Then Lincoln backs me up when I go to Dauntless, and Finn will be kicked out too.” Clarke said simply. 

“How will you know he’s telling the truth?” Bellamy said. 

“I’ll know,” Clarke said calmly. 

Bellamy shook his head. “You were brought up Abnegation, Clarke. You don’t know how dark people can be. Finn could feel rejected. Maybe he thought if he couldn’t have you, no one could.” The accusation hung in the air. Lincoln and Octavia looked away, realizing this argument no longer involved them. 

Clarke jutted her chin out and crossed her arms. “Guess I’ll find out.” 

After a minute of horrible silence, Bellamy stood up and walked out of the apartment door, slamming it behind him. 

“Leaving when things get tough.” Clarke said bitterly. 

“He just needs a minute to cool off. He’s been furious since last night,” Octavia said. “I haven’t seen him this mad… ever.” 

“And he’s jealous,” Lincoln said gently. “It’s a bad combination. For anyone. Octavia can take you to Finn. I’ll go find Bellamy.” 

“I brought a change of clothes back for you,” Octavia grabbed the black backpack she arrived with that morning and offered it to Clarke. “Why don’t you get ready?” 

* * *

It was remarkable how something as simple as a private shower could greatly alter a person’s mood. Clarke felt new and in control when she emerged an hour later, fully cleansed without having to look over her shoulder. She felt like her old self. 

She felt like she did before cold hands groped her. 

_Stop, _Clarke commanded her thoughts. Clarke had to figure out what happened and why, that was the mission right now. Having a task in front of her was like a lifeline. The mystery surrounding Finn’s motives provided her a reason to keep moving and avoid sinking into the pit last night’s memory was digging in her heart. 

“I’ll be right here,” Octavia promised once they entered the medical bay’s double doors. “Just shout if you need me.” 

Clarke nodded and pushed through the double doors. She went directly to the front desk to check in with the medical bay staff. A woman with a mohawk in a black lab coat led Clarke to Finn’s room, far off to the right. 

Clarke saw Finn before Finn saw her. His face was tight and swollen, red in places and purple in others; Lincoln had done a devastatingly thorough job. 

“_Clarke _ .” It came out as a wheeze when Clarke walked around the bed to the view of Finn’s non-swollen eye. Finn pushed through obvious pain and started to speak quickly. “ _ Please _, you have to believe me, I wasn’t trying to help them kill you.” 

Clarke sat down next to the bed and analyzed Finn’s facial expression. It was harder to look for tells of dishonesty when most of his features were puffy with injury. Clarke kept herself skeptical and sat out of arms’ reach. “I’m going to need a bit more than that, Finn. Why were you there?” 

“I heard them planning it at dinner. After you broke Murphy’s nose, I knew he wouldn’t let it go. I knew he would do something like this. So, I convinced them I didn’t like you. I told them…” Finn trailed off and looked apologetic. “I told them we were together and you left me. And I was mad.” 

Clarke’s mouth dropped open. “What!”

Finn started toward Clarke, but the numerous tubes stuck in his arms kept him firmly in place. “I needed them to believe me. It was either I go with them and help you, or let them kill you.” 

“Or warn me!” Clarke shouted. She felt some of Bellamy’s borrowed anger bubbling up. 

“That would protect you _ this _ time,” Finn said. “But Murphy… he’s a real asshole. He’d come back at you, again and again. I thought I’d go with them and when the moment was right… I’d push him in the chasm. Him and Atom, if I could manage.” 

Clarke was stunned. Finn meant to kill Murphy and Atom. “That’s murder,” she finally said after a dazed moment. 

“They _ wanted _ to kill you.” Finn begged. “They’re brutal, you don’t understand. Atom? In the dorms, he talks about how he can’t wait to be part of the security force and make his first kill. Murphy brags about the different pain serums Candor used during criminal trials with reverence. His dad was an executioner. They’re psychopaths. And they wanted to kill _ you _. I didn’t feel like I had much choice.” 

Clarke struggled against Finn’s argument. “You could have reported it.”

Finn’s tone grew frustrated. “I didn’t have proof! It was their word against mine! And Atom grew up here! His mother is on the discipline board!” 

Clarke put her face in her hands and tried to sort out the jumbled thoughts in her head. Finn didn’t want to kill her, he wanted to kill the other two boys to protect her. “So what, you kill Atom and Murphy? What’s next? We head back to the dorms?” Clarke’s voice was verging on hysterical. 

“I was about to push Atom over, when Lincoln came in and punched me--”

“Could have come to my rescue a bit sooner,” Clarke spat, unconsciously crossing her arms over her torso and the bruises peppered across her chest. 

Finn closed his open eye and took a deep breath. “I am so sorry, Clarke. If there was a way I could have maneuvered to push Atom into the chasm without him taking you down too, I would have done it. In a heartbeat.” Clarke could hear the truth ring in Finn’s words and let silence fall around them, waiting for him to continue. “And no, I didn’t think we’d go back to the dorms. I thought…” Finn sat up a bit straighter in his bed. “I thought we could leave Dauntless for good.” 

Clarke laughed in an unhinged way before shoving her hand over her mouth. “You thought we would run away together?” 

“It didn’t have to be like _ that _, Clarke. I know you have a thing for Blake, and--”

“I don’t ‘have a thing’ for him, we’re together,” Clarke hissed. “You and I are not, in case you’ve forgotten.” 

Finn let loose one pitiful laugh. “Believe me, I haven’t forgotten. In time, maybe…” Finn trailed off and shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. I wasn’t trying to steal you away, I was trying to save you.”

“Save me? From what? Initiation? I made it past round one, even with being knocked unconscious every other day.” 

Finn gestured for Clarke to lean in closer and whispered, “Dauntless isn’t safe.” 

Clarke furrowed her brows. Of course Dauntless wasn’t safe, that was sort of their whole motto. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…” his voice dropped so low Clarke needed to move her chair closer to hear. “That Erudite is planning a coup, they want to take over the faction system and they’re going to put Dauntless soldiers in a sim to do it. Sometime soon after Initiation, I don’t know when.” 

Clarke sat back in shock. _ How could Finn possibly know this? _Her dad eluded to Erudite’s ambitions, but Finn knew details of an attack. 

Seemingly reading her mind, Finn continued. “Becca? The Erudite leader? She took over the position from my mother. She’s still high up on the board. When I found out, I hacked the system and changed my aptitude test from Erudite to Dauntless so my transfer wouldn’t seem out of the ordinary. I wanted to come here and get as many people out as possible beforehand. I was planning to lead a group out of the compound after stage two of initiation started.” Once he started telling the truth, Finn couldn’t stop. “But then I met you,” he grinned wryly. “And it seemed like saving you was enough.” 

Clarke let the declaration sit in the air, still trying to wrap her head around what Finn was telling her. If he was right, she was dead either way. If she stayed, the Dauntless would know she was Divergent the second the simulation activated and she didn’t respond. If she left, the Dauntless and Erudite would eventually track her down among the targeted factionless. 

“Check my backpack.” Finn gestured to the black bag resting in the corner of the room. Clarke hesitantly walked over and unzipped the bag. She pulled out a pile of black clothes and a smaller paper bag filled with food. Looking at each article of clothing, she realized one set of shirts and pants were _ hers _. If there was any doubt Finn wanted to get her out of Atom and Murphy’s clutches, it evaporated. 

“Do you believe me?” Finn said quietly. 

“I do,” Clarke responded. Although at the moment, she wished she didn’t. 

* * *

Lincoln and Bellamy were waiting in Bellamy’s small apartment when Clarke and Octavia returned. Lincoln’s firm hand on was on Bellamy’s shoulder, tight enough to keep him seated in his shabby kitchen chair. Octavia eyed her brother and he nodded at her. Bellamy avoided Clarke’s gaze all together. 

“I think I should tell Bellamy alone,” Clarke said quietly. 

Bellamy’s eyes snapped up to her. “Whatever you need to say to me you can say in front of them.” 

Clarke bit her lip. Finn’s information paired with her father’s from visitor’s day painted a bleak picture for her and Bellamy’s futures at Dauntless. _ Did Octavia know her brother was Divergent? Was she aware of the political turmoil outside the compound walls? Would it put her in danger to know? _

“If they know, they’ll be in danger too.” Clarke said darkly. 

Bellamy’s eyebrows shot up, catching Clarke’s meaning. “Octavia, you should--”

“No.” Octavia said, sitting down on the floor and crossing her arms to illustrate her point. “If something dangerous is happening to you or Clarke then I need to know about it.” Lincoln analyzed Clarke’s face and then left Bellamy’s side to sit next to Octavia, making up his mind. 

Bellamy sighed. “Go ahead, princess.” 

Taking the use of her nickname as a heartening sign, Clarke spoke. “Finn heard Atom and Murphy planning my attack. He thought of warning me, but worried Atom and Murphy would just come at me again. He couldn’t report it because he had no proof and Atom’s parent is on the discipline board. So, he went with them and his goal was to try and push them both into the chasm.”

“Atom’s mom_ is _ on the discipline board,” Lincoln confirmed.

“Finn was going to commit a double murder and then do what?” Octavia said disbelievingly. 

Clarke took a deep breath. “He wanted to leave Dauntless and take me with him.” 

Octavia let out a low whistle. “I told you so.” Clarke shot her a withering look and Octavia put her hands up in surrender. 

“Which I wouldn’t have done.” The fact seemed obvious to her, but Clarke wanted to state it for Bellamy’s sake. “Finn wanted to leave because Erudite is planning an attack on Abnegation, and they intend to use simulated Dauntless soldiers to do it.” 

The room was piercingly silent, but Clarke continued. “Erudite wants to take over the government and wipe out the Divergent population to strengthen the faction system. Finn wanted to save me from becoming a mindless Dauntless killing machine. I can’t go to Dauntless leadership and tell on them without Finn being implicated, so I’m not going to report anything.” Clarke said this to the floor and then chanced a look at Bellamy, whose face was an inscrutable mask. 

“What Finn doesn’t know is that I'm not in danger of being used.” Danger broke through Bellamy’s gaze, but Clarke couldn’t stop the words from tumbling out of her mouth. “Because simulations don’t affect me the same way. I’m Divergent.” Octavia’s jaw dropped and Lincoln glanced at Bellamy revealing he already knew about Bellamy’s Divergent status. 

“When?” Bellamy said, ignoring his sister’s shock. 

“Sometime after Initiation is over, he didn’t know exactly.” Clarke said. 

“How does he know?” Lincoln asked. 

“Finn’s mother was the Erudite leader before Becca and still works close to her.” 

Bellamy swore under his breath. 

“So Finn doesn’t know you’re…” Octavia trailed off before whispering the word, “_ Divergent. _”

“No,” Clarke confirmed. “He doesn’t.” 

Octavia’s eyes traveled back and forth between Clarke and Bellamy before he spoke up, “I knew. I’m Divergent too, O.” 

“What?!” Octavia’s exclamation was loud and full of a similar fury Bellamy expressed readily over the last 24 hours. “You never said anything!” 

“Because it can get you killed,” Bellamy hissed. “And if anyone found out, Erudite could haul you off to headquarters for questioning. They could torture you, O.” 

Octavia shrugged this fact away nonchalantly. “According to Finn, it’s either be a Dauntless murderer or a dead Divergent!”

Clarke smiled grimly. “Precisely.”

Octavia shook her head. “I won’t do it. I can’t stay.” 

Lincoln looked at Octavia. “I go where you go.” Her tense face relaxed and she tried to hide a smile. 

Bellamy looked at Lincoln for a long moment but decided to leave the matter alone. “All four of us can’t leave the compound at once, it’ll look suspicious. We’ll be tracked.” 

“All five of us,” Clarke corrected. “Without Finn we wouldn’t know any of this. He’s coming with us. Not to mention, he tried to save my life. I owe him.” 

“I agree,” Lincoln said in his trademark somber manner. 

Octavia looked at Bellamy apologetically. “Me too.” 

Bellamy glared at Clarke in a way that reassured her this aspect of the conversation was not over, but would be paused and taken up at another time. “Fine. The _ five _ of us can’t leave the compound at once.”

“Finn leaving after this attack would make sense,” Octavia pointed out. “Especially because he’s a transfer.” Bellamy nodded in agreement. “And everyone can tell you and Clarke are a thing. If you two ran away together later… that wouldn’t be weird either. Then Lincoln and I could wait a bit more and go too.” 

“All before Initiation?” Lincoln said incredulously. 

“Stage one took weeks, how long will the second stage take?” Clarke asked, praying for at least a month of time to plan and prepare. 

“Dauntless has officially scheduled final testing for next Friday.” Lincoln said. 

“Shit,” Octavia said. Clarke could have laughed at the absurdity of their situation, but didn’t. 

“Phase two is more draining, it never goes on very long.” Bellamy sighed. 

“More draining?” Clarke said surprised. “How?” The three looked at each other as if deciding whether or not to tell Clarke, which only increased her anxiety. 

“It’s a simulation, kind of like the aptitude test. You have to face all of your fears.” Lincoln explained. “Most people have ten to fifteen.” 

Buried deep in her mind, Clarke recalled her first morning on the Dauntless compound when she met Bellamy. Octavia described him to Clarke: _ “__He was just good at everything. Never lost a fight, quickest sim times and he only has five fears in his landscape.” _This was what Octavia referenced. Most candidates had double the amount of fears Bellamy did.

“You only have five,” Clarke said looking at Bellamy. 

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. “How did you…?”

“I told her. Back when initiation started.” Octavia cut in. 

“But how does it work on you as a Divergent?” Clarke asked curiously. 

“It’s easy to remember the fears aren’t real. But you have to fight your way out of the situations like a Dauntless or the evaluators will notice.” Bellamy explained. 

“They_ feel _ real,” Lincoln mumbled. 

“Indra helped me, during my initiation. She trained me to think like a Dauntless.” Bellamy said. 

“She never told anyone about my test results.” Clarke added. “Do you think she’s part of the Allegiant?” 

“What’s the Allegiant?” Octavia asked. 

“A group who want to get rid of the faction system. My dad is part of it.” Clarke said. Octavia looked overwhelmed with all this new information, but Bellamy and Clarke didn’t stop to let her catch up. 

“You’re going to need training,” Bellamy said gruffly to Clarke, avoiding her eyes. He hadn’t caught her gaze since she insisted Finn leave the Dauntless compound with them. It was driving her slowly crazy, creating a desperate heat in her stomach. “I’ll run you through my fear landscape tonight so that when you go under practice with Indra and the other initiates tomorrow--” 

He sounded like Trainer Blake, rattling off points of action and nothing like the Bellamy she came to know. The overwhelming emotion of the last day caught up with Clarke in a violent way as she shouted, “LOOK AT ME!” 

Bellamy brought his gaze up to hers, and god did he look _ tired _. More tired and weary than any eighteen-year-old had a right to look. 

Lincoln and Octavia stood up and made some excuse to leave, promising to reconnect later. The rusty door creaked and Clarke listened to Lincoln and Octavia’s footsteps down the squeaky stairs before a final silence settled over the two of them. 

Bellamy stood over his kitchen sink, hands gripping the linoleum edge with white knuckles. Clarke hadn’t thought through her interruption, she just knew there was too much not being said and piling up. If they kept avoiding the issues of the last day, it would bury them. 

“You’re mad,” Clarke pointed out. “Can you tell me why?”

Bellamy laughed in an almost cruel way. “I don’t even know where to start.” Clarke kept silent, not wanting to push him into an unproductive fury. “Last night was the worst night of my life.” Bellamy pushed off the sink and crossed to his table, sitting down in the chair once more, while Clarke sat up straighter on his bed. 

“Me too,” she said. 

His eyes softened hearing Clarke’s admission and he came to sit next to her. “I can’t even imagine. I felt… helpless. I couldn’t do anything, and then when I found out who they were… I wanted to kill them, Clarke. I can still feel it under my skin. I’ve never been so angry in my life. I’ve never been so… Dauntless.” Clarke remembered Bellamy’s cold expression and believed him. 

“You know how I feel about Finn. And the fact that he was_ there _ and didn’t stop Atom from…” Bellamy shook his head. “I know you believe him, and apparently he was trying to save you, but I don’t trust him. I don’t think I can. Now O knows I’m Divergent and she’s in danger. Every friend and mentor I’ve ever had in Dauntless is in danger. All the Divergents are in danger, which includes you. So yes, I’m angry.” Bellamy finished with his fingers interlaced and his tone was deep and bitter. 

Clarke scooted closer to him and laid her head on his shoulder. It was the first time they touched since he rubbed ointment on her bruises the night before. Bellamy put his head on the top of hers. After a moment, Clarke crawled on her knees and pulled Bellamy into her arms. He collapsed into her, breathing deeply like a sailor at sea. Bellamy’s shoulders shook and Clarke ran her fingers through his thick, curly hair while she whispered potentially untrue platitudes like “_ it’s going to be okay _ ,” “ _ we’re fine _ ,” and “ _ don’t worry, we’ll figure it out. _” 

Bellamy’s voice was so quiet Clarke almost didn’t hear him. “I can’t lose you.” 

“You won’t,” Clarke promised and kissed the top of his head. Bellamy’s arms tightened around her waist and he kept his head resting against her chest, happy to hear the steady heartbeat underneath. 


	10. Change of Scenery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! Thank you all so much for your support so far in this fic, it means the world to me. I'm going through a hard time right now and writing Bellarke gives me life, so enjoy this longer chapter. Also, TW for mentions of Clarke's attack and she has a brief flashback.

“The last time I did my fear landscape, I had five fears.” Bellamy said hours later, sitting opposite of Clarke on his bed holding her hands. He took a deep, loud breath. “Fear of heights, acid fog, having to kill someone, Octavia dying and being tortured.” 

Clarke didn’t know what she expected, but for some reason his list took her by surprise. She anticipated more traditional fears, like Bellamy’s first two, but the remaining three were deep and dreadful. 

“They could have changed. I don’t know.” Bellamy added quickly. 

“Your fear landscape can change?” Clarke asked. 

“Yeah, it can. Indra will talk about it tomorrow and you’ll go through hers as a practice. But I haven’t gone in mine for a few months. Since then…” Bellamy trailed off, squeezing Clarke’s hand, “I met you. And losing you is definitely a fear, so I have no idea how that will manifest. Ideally, I would go through first so I could know, but--”

“We don’t have time for that,” Clarke finished. It was true; if Clarke was to blend in with her normal, non-Divergent initiates tomorrow in Indra’s fear landscape, she needed to understand how to behave beforehand. 

“Exactly. I’m sorry, princess.” Bellamy leaned forward and rested his forehead against hers. “We’ll just have to get through it together.” 

It was nearly midnight, but Bellamy insisted on waiting until most of the corridors were clear before sneaking into a spare training room. Bellamy moved stealthily through the dark, rock corridors and kept Clarke’s sweaty hand clutched in his. Abnegation’s strict, rule-following upbringing made her anxious about sneaking around in Dauntless’s dark halls, even if it wasn’t expressly forbidden. 

Bellamy led them down multiple flights of stairs, deeper than Clarke had ever ventured in the compound. The temperature dropped and the sweat on Clarke’s hand became clammy. After a few minutes of descending, Bellamy pulled Clarke down another hallway and punched in a long code to unlock a black door with no handle. 

Inside was a singular chair, a monitor and a rolling medical cabinet. The set-up reminded Clarke vaguely of the aptitude tests except more intimidating and permanent with the chair’s base cemented into the earth. 

Bellamy strode toward the cart, finally breaking his grip on Clarke. He pulled out circular discs that he stuck to his temples and two large syringes filled with an orange substance. 

“You should sit in the chair, you might get dizzy the first time being injected.” Bellamy took Clarke’s hand and led her over to the gray cushioned chair. Clarke noted there were limp leather bindings handing down off the sides like dead snakes; the room most likely doubled as an interrogation space. 

Bellamy picked up the first syringe and stood next to Clarke. “I’ll see you soon, princess.” With a chaste kiss to Clarke’s forehead, Bellamy plunged the needle into her neck. Clarke winced at the acute pain and then was sucked into a world of black. 

Before Clarke could see anything, she felt wind. Air whistled past her shoulders and lifted the ends of blonde and faded-pink hair around her neck, tickling the sensitive points under her hairline. Then a picture focused into view, like a camera shutter zooming in on its subject. She was on top of the Dauntless compound, standing on the edge of the roof. Bellamy suddenly was next to her, a clear replica of how he was currently dressed. 

“Fear of heights?” Clarke asked him. 

Bellamy grimaced. “Yes.” 

A narrow beam appeared between the pair of them that connected the tall rooftop to its neighbor some fifty feet away. The drop on either side of the beam looked to be at least forty stories. A fall from this height would be long and deadly in real life. 

But this _ wasn’t _ real life. 

“Why don’t we just jump?” Clarke asked Bellamy. “The fear would be over quickly.” 

“That’s the Divergent response.” Bellamy looked over to Clarke and put one foot on the beam. “The Dauntless answer is to walk across the beam.” 

Clarke understood and realized without Bellamy’s help she would have revealed herself to be Divergent in her first move to whomever was watching her testing progress. “Did you jump the first time?” 

“Yup. Indra was watching and that’s how she knew what I was. Come on, let’s get this over with.” Bellamy put his hands out on either side of his body, stretching his arms to their full length before placing his second foot on the beam. 

Bellamy’s progress was slow but steady, pausing occasionally to adjust his foot placement or flail his arms. Clarke followed behind, enjoying the spike of adrenaline with their activity. It reminded her of the ropes course her and Octavia accomplished together. Clarke noticed Bellamy never looked down. Once both of their feet were firmly on the opposite building’s rooftop, the scene faded to black. 

Clarke and Bellamy were in an open field with the Arcadia wall standing tall far in the distance. They were outside the city limits. 

“There’s going to be a siren, and then the fog,” Bellamy grimaced.

“What do we-” Clarke was cut off by a blaring horn, silencing her beneath the alert. 

Clarke couldn’t hear Bellamy’s instructions and saw a thick red cloud advancing from the south, swallowing the green fields like a hungry beast. Bellamy gestured with his hand for Clarke to follow him. They both ran west toward the thick ridge of the forest and started zig-zagging through trees. If Clarke was acting impulsively, she would have ran head first into the fog, knowing it didn’t have the power to damage her in real life. Another wrong instinct.

Clarke’s lungs burned and the muscles in her legs ached. For a simulation, everything felt terrifyingly real. She couldn’t imagine how non-Divergents felt, not having the luxury of remembering the situation at hand was fake. Despite how threatening the acid fog looked, she knew she was safe from bodily harm and that thought allowed her to keep a calm head. 

“Ahead!” Bellamy roared. 

There was a small pond settled in an upcoming gap. Bellamy skidded to a halt once he reached the water’s edge and Clarke came to stand next to him. She took a moment to brace her hands on her thighs, breathing deeply. 

“We have to wait until the fog is here and then jump in and hold our breath until it passes,” Bellamy explained, looking unfatigued from sprinting (_ he also hadn’t had his ribs broken twice within the last few weeks, _ Clarke reminded herself). Clarke straightened out in time to see the red gas starting to swim through the trees and engulf them in its opaque mist. 

Bellamy grabbed Clarke’s hand. “On my count.” The fog seemed to respond to their presence, moving more quickly now there was a meal to devour in its acidic droplets. “One… two… three!” 

They both pushed off the ground and dove into the pond, which was surprisingly deep. Looking at its surface Clarke thought they would be able to stand on the bottom, but her feet took over ten seconds to touch the muck surface with at least five feet of dark water hanging above her head. The water was warm, surrounding them like a womb to protect from the evils plaguing the surface. 

After Clarke counted to sixty in her head, she squinted her eyes in Bellamy’s direction. His gaze was tilted to the surface, observing the shadows of the fog. Even with limited visibility, Clarke could tell it was not safe to resurface yet. The air in her lungs was running out and even though Clarke knew there was no real danger of drowning, her legs didn’t. Her limbs began moving, trying to find purchase on a surface they could push off of and rocket her to safety. 

Feeling Clarke’s motion, Bellamy looked over and shook his head at her. The air Clarke stored in her barely functioning lungs was nearly gone. Clarke’s toes danced on the sandy bottom and she had to consciously stop her legs from bending and pushing. Bellamy pulled abruptly on Clarke’s hand until her body crashed into his and wrapped his heavy arms around her to act as an anchor. Now, it didn’t matter how her body reacted, she could not push their combined body weight. 

The next minute was agonizing. All Clarke’s thoughts were reduced to a singular word: _ air, air, air. _ Black spots started to pop around her vision and she felt quite content with opening her mouth and sucking down water to aid in her quick demise if it meant the burning in her lungs and brain would _ stop _. 

Bellamy stomped his feet into the mud and his force cut them through the dark waters and up again to the oxygenated surface. Clarke’s aggressive coughing thundered around them as she spat up pond water. Bellamy released Clarke and thumped her on the back. 

“Are you sure you don’t have a fear of drowning?” Clarke said darkly once she was able to speak again. Bellamy laughed briefly before the pond, the forest and the retreating red fog all faded to black. 

Their clothes and bodies were dry once more as rock walls closed in out of the darkness to surround Bellamy and Clarke. In the room there was a single metal table with a gun and a silent third person dressed in the mismatched clothes of the factionless standing against the opposite wall. Bellamy wordlessly took a step forward and picked up the gun aiming it for the strange man. 

“Who is he?” Clarke asked. 

Bellamy kept his eyes trained ahead. “No one I know. But it doesn’t matter, I have to kill him.” He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. Bellamy’s hesitation was new to Clarke, she had seen him fight fearlessly in the ring so often. But the ring was a controlled environment meant to teach. With his Trainer appointment, Bellamy never needed to wield a gun. With one more deep breath, Bellamy fired. The man dropped instantly, red splattering the wall behind him. 

The scene changed again. Clarke recognized the Dauntless medical bay. They were in a room nearly identical to Finn’s, but Octavia lay sickly and pale in the bed before them. A low groaning sound was coming from her throat and Bellamy stood transfixed, eyes frozen in horror. Clarke put a tentative hand on his shoulder. 

“Bell, it’s not real.” 

“I have to watch,” he whispered. “If I shut my eyes the scene replays.” 

How absurdly horrible. Clarke felt a prickle of anger at the base of her skull in response to Bellamy’s stricken face. She wanted Dauntless to pay for the barbaric tests the initiates were forced to go through. She wanted to run away before she had endure her own personal torture landscape. If Dauntless wanted them to be constantly afraid, then it was working. 

A heart monitor started beeping more slowly and Octavia’s nearly translucent eyelids closed. The green line filled normally with peaks and valleys flushed straight and the noise turned into a quiet, high pitch whine. Bellamy bent over and kissed his sister’s forehead tenderly and the room swam before Clarke’s eyes. 

Clarke knew what was coming: Bellamy’s fifth and final fear of torture. _ Unless meeting her would add one? _Clarke pictured Bellamy tied to a chair under a harsh spotlight, while a nameless person administered shock after shock- 

_Why was she laying on her back? _

Clarke realized with a sickening start that _ she _ was bound to a metal table. Across from her, Bellamy was strapped to a chair. A mask of shock twisted Bellamy’s handsome face. Apparently his fifth fear had evolved to include her. 

“Where’s your mother, Bellamy?” Becca, the Erudite leader, asked. She trailed a long red nail down Bellamy's cheek. Behind it, a thin trail of blood bubbled to the surface of his skin. In Becca’s other hand, she held a black remote that fit in her palm.

Bellamy looked at Clarke pleadingly before responding, “I don’t know.” 

Clarke felt an electric shock travel down her bones, smashing her joints together, vibrating her veins. A scream was ripped out of her mouth. 

“CLARKE! Clarke, I’m so sorry. I can’t tell them.” Bellamy was sobbing. Clarke couldn’t see him through the tears in her own eyes, but she could hear his heaving breaths. 

“It’s not… real… Bellamy.” Clarke’s voice was weak. Knowing the simulation wasn’t real might work if she was injected with serum, but Bellamy was in control now. 

Clarke’s blinked to clear her eyes and Becca’s sickly beautiful face swam into focus. “You’re right. His love for you isn’t real. How can he love someone he lies to? That he keeps secrets from?” Becca must have pushed the shock button again because Clarke felt like knives were ripping down every inch of her body pulling her tightly inward. Her throat was raw from calling out.

“SHUT UP!” Bellamy roared. He tried to shake his limbs free of the ropes around his feet and hands, but the chair merely tipped over. Clarke spat up at Becca, who didn’t flinch as the spit landed on her red dress. 

Clarke knew fighting Becca would be of no use and instead she shouted instructions to Bellamy. “Bellamy, you need to breathe! This isn’t real, this isn’t real, this isn’t real-”

Bellamy was too immersed in the simulation to heed Clarke’s advice. “TORTURE ME! DON’T TOUCH HER! I’M THE ONE YOU WANT!” 

The dark room vanished and Clarke was laying on the soft white chair in the fear simulation room. Bellamy was in the fetal position ten feet from her, shaking and silent. Clarke scrambled over to him and wrapped her arms around him like a mother comforting a child after a nightmare. “_ Shhh, I’m fine, Bell. Nothing happened. We’re safe, we’re fine _.” There was no pain in Clarke’s body now except the hoarseness in her throat. 

The screaming had been real. 

After a minute Bellamy rolled to pull Clarke into his arms, bringing her body to lay on top of his. He buried his face in her hair and muttered against her ear, “That was so much worse. Usually I’m strapped to the table and the simulation ends when I tell them to kill me.”

She continued to pet Bellamy’s curls, thinking back to Becca’s words: _ How can he love someone he lies to? That he keeps secrets from? _

_If he wanted to keep secrets, he wouldn’t have brought her into his fear landscape_, Clarke reassured herself firmly. She just saw the rawest parts of Bellamy, his deepest fears, and she wanted him to know he could trust her with his secrets. “You know you can tell me anything, right?” 

Bellamy collected himself and stood up. “Not here, come to my room.” 

The two left the fear simulation room and wove up the stairs and through the dark cavern. The spiral staircase was familiar and soon enough, they burst through to Bellamy’s room. 

Bellamy went to his small refrigerator and pulled out a beer, cracking the top off on his counter. He took a deep swig before coming back to Clarke. “Like I told you that first night in the ring, my mom left Dauntless when I was 14. She didn’t agree with the faction system and got into a fall out with leadership. After she left, Becca and the Dauntless leaders pulled me in for questioning at Erudite headquarters. They wanted to know where she went, but I had no idea. All she left was a letter for me telling me to look after Octavia.” 

_How selfish to push the burden of parenting onto a fourteen year old boy, _ Clarke thought bitterly.

“I didn’t know she was alive until a year later when I got a note telling me to meet her at an abandoned train yard. She told me to take Octavia and run, to come join her with the factionless. They were banding together for a rebellion.” Clarke took a sharp breath,_ this was why Bellamy wasn’t afraid of being factionless. _ His mother was their leader and the factionless weren’t as weak as Arcadia wanted people to believe. “I told her no, and that Octavia and I were safer here.” 

Bellamy drained his beer in a deep gulp. “I went back to see her after my aptitude test. I was terrified of what it meant... to get two factions. She told me to stay at Dauntless as long as I could, to gather information and gain allies. When I couldn’t stand it anymore I could join back up with them, or if anyone found out what I was I could leave right away.” 

Clarke sat perfectly still, staring at her hands in her lap. “Do you agree with your mother? Do you want to get rid of the factions?”

Bellamy ran a hand over his face, the released skin sagging with misery. “I don’t know anymore. I don’t think it’s right to make someone choose only one piece of themselves, like Finn told us Erudite wants. But I also don’t think it’s right to take away five choices and leave zero.” 

Clarke was relieved to hear his indecision. “I agree. Neither is a good choice.” 

“I don’t know if we’ll have a choice but to join with the factionless or the Allegiant. I think Becca as a dictator is worse than any other option.” 

_Dauntless… Abnegation… Divergent… _ each term weighed heavily on Clarke’s shoulders and for a shining moment she wanted to feel none of it. She wanted to erase Atom’s hungry hands on her skin, she wanted to feel the delicious fire she felt before when her and Bellamy embraced and everything was simpler.

Clarke twisted on the bed and put her hands on either side of Bellamy’s face. His eyebrows were furrowed. “I just want to forget for a minute, okay?” 

Bellamy nodded and she knew he understood. Clarke even saw relief spark across his face before she pressed her mouth to his. This kiss was brutal, their teeth crashing into one another and her lips flattened under his mouth’s pressure. It felt like years since they had kissed and held each other. The weight of the last few days was heavy and thick, pushing them to action and constant worry. 

For Bellamy, the rage he felt toward Clarke’s attackers was finally subsumed by her willing touch. The constant anxiety around Erudite’s impending attack seemed to drift away from the forefront of his mind when Clarke’s hands slipped beneath his t-shirt and raked her nails down his back. 

Clarke’s worry that Bellamy would never forgive her for trusting Finn faded when his palms spanned her waist. His mouth on her neck was a welcome distraction from the echoes of Atom’s stale breath fanning over her as he groped her. With each movement from Bellamy, it was easier to place the attack out of her head. 

No matter their disagreements or burdens, life was proving to be easier together. More messy and complex, yes. But they _ needed _ each other. 

Clarke ripped off Bellamy’s t-shirt and he responded in kind, peeling off Clarke’s black shirt. Anywhere their skin touched was humming with feeling. Clarke straddled Bellamy’s lap and he ground her hips into his pelvis, gripping her tightly. Clarke gasped at the friction, pausing their kiss with her sound. Bellamy chased her, lightly biting her bottom lip between his. 

It was when Bellamy’s hand traveled from her waist up to the underside of her chest that Clarke reacted instinctively. The feeling of a wandering hand put her back at the chasm: bound by Murphy, watched by Finn and touched unwillingly by Atom. Clarke shoved Bellamy’s chest as hard as she could, falling off his lap as a result. 

The floor was hard and unyielding when Clarke landed and she blinked several times before her vision cleared and her surroundings came back into focus. Namely, Bellamy’s shocked and concerned face. He held both hands up next to him in surrender and sat perfectly still even with his jaw clenching dangerously from the effort of restraining himself from comforting her. 

For a long minute, they only stared at each other. Clarke felt embarrassed, like a dark hidden part of herself had been exposed. “I’m sorry,” she choked out. 

Bellamy shook his head vigorously. “No, Clarke, I’m sorry. It was too soon, I was-”

“I _ wanted _ you to, Bellamy,” Clarke interrupted. She stood up from the ground and sat herself back on Bellamy’s lap toward his knees, keeping their hips a safe distance apart. Clarke draped her arms around his neck. “I didn’t realize I would react that way. I didn’t mean to.” 

Bellamy dropped his forehead against hers and moved his palms to the outer sides of her thighs, but made no move to kiss her again. Clarke put her own hands on top of his and slid them back to her hips. 

“We’ll go slow,” Clarke whispered before kissing Bellamy’s nose. 

“Whatever you want, princess. I promise,” he said reverently. 

* * *

Barely three hours passed before Octavia shook Clarke awake and dragged her out of bed to breakfast. 

Octavia shoved a cup of brown, steaming liquid in front of Clarke. “It’s coffee, drink it.” Clarke dutifully swallowed a gulp and her eyes opened slightly. After a cursory scan around the pit, Clarke saw Bellamy and Lincoln were both absent and her heart sunk.

“They’re getting the simulation rooms set up,” Octavia explained seemingly reading Clarke’s mind. 

“Aren’t we just going through Indra’s landscape today?” Clarke asked sharply. 

“In the morning. I think in the afternoon they’ll start putting us under.” Clarke’s eyes widened in panic and Octavia reached across the table to put her hand on top of Clarke’s. “Don’t worry. I think they would go in rank order. If not, just be Dauntless.” The advice was innocuous enough to anyone overhearing it, but Clarke swallowed and nodded, understanding Octavia’s meaning: _ Be Dauntless, not Divergent. Face your fears, don’t try to outsmart them. _

Out of the corner of her eye, Clarke saw Finn enter. His face was nearly its original size again, but still discolored with bruises in various stages of healing. His eyes found hers and without getting breakfast he made a beeline for her and Octavia’s otherwise empty table. 

Finn moved to sit down next to Octavia, but a deep glare sent him scurrying over to Clarke’s bench. “We should talk,” he whispered in Clarke’s ear. 

“Tonight.” Octavia said out loud, startling Finn. “Me, you, Clarke, Lincoln and Bellamy. In the empty warehouse at midnight. We’ll stagger our exits from the dorm.” Without any further explanation, Octavia got up and walked away, snagging an apple from the abandoned baskets by the food counter. 

“So, Octavia knows,” Finn said. 

Clarke avoided his eyes and instead picked at her hashbrowns. “Yes. Her, Bellamy and Lincoln.” 

Finn nodded once and gently elbowed Clarke in the arm, trying to provoke her to face him. “I’m happy we can get more people out, this is good.” 

Clarke’s mind caught on Finn’s use of _ we_. “I had to stick my neck out for them to include you,” she said. “They wanted to leave you behind to fend for yourself.” 

Clarke brought her eyes up to Finn’s battered face and he smiled. Maybe _ too _ much. “Thank you, Clarke.” Finn placed his hand on top of hers. Clarke slid hers away quickly, turning back to her breakfast. 

Finn walked her down to the simulation rooms chatting about nothing particularly important, but Clarke’s mind was fixed on what her day would hold. _ What were her fears? How many did she have? How could she fight them off like a Dauntless? _

The training room gradually filled with the remaining initiates. Everyone fell silent when Indra appeared. “Good morning, and welcome to phase two of initiation. The first phase is designed to test your fortitude and physical strength. Phase two capitalizes on an even more important piece of being Dauntless.” Indra paused, scanning the small crowd. “Your _ emotions_. Fear can be a useful tool, but it can also debilitate you.” 

“Over the next week, you will each be placed in a simulation multiple times where you face your fears. All your fears,” she clarified. “Most first timers have between fifteen to twenty, and once the simulation receives your data your number will usually decrease and plateau between ten to fifteen. Your fears can change over time as you experience new people and situations. The way to face your fears is to strategically think of ways to combat them.” 

“Each run will be timed. Those of you with the quickest simulation times will rise in the rankings. Those who cannot face their fears effectively will be moved down. Questions?” 

No one dared raise a hand. 

“Excellent. For an example, I will lead you through the first three fears in my own landscape. I currently have nine fears. The lowest known fear landscape is five.” Clarke sucked in a quick breath through her teeth. _ Bellamy had the least fears of anyone in Dauntless. _

Indra turned on her heel and led them through a thick black door, similar to the one Clarke and Bellamy opened the night before. The room was familiar: the same stone walls and floor, a singular chair and medical cabinet. Against the far wall was a long table with many loaded syringes. Bellamy and Lincoln stood next to the table. Bellamy’s eyes flickered over her and Finn before turning his chin slightly away from them. 

“Spread yourselves out,” Indra commanded. Clarke was glad for the excuse to leave Finn’s side and stood innocuously next to Bellamy while Octavia came to stand on her other side. Indra climbed into the chair and gently pressed two small white circles against each temple, which seemed to glow against her dark skin. 

Bellamy and Lincoln each picked up several syringes and turned to the initiates nearest to them. Bellamy looked at Clarke’s eyes as he pressed the needle into the same hole he did the night before, carefully inserting to cause her less pain. He smiled and nodded once, smally, before stepping left and addressing Octavia. 

Clarke only had a few seconds to look around the room before her vision blurred, but she noticed there were _ not _ twenty initiates. Atom and Murphy were missing, along with Ontari. Clarke started to create theories around their absences when everything faded to black. 

When there was light again, it was hot and orange. Clarke was standing in a bedroom where fire licked the curtains. The house was decorated plainly and it reminded Clarke of her own childhood home in Abnegation. The room was perfectly square with one bed, one dresser, and gray curtains hanging over the windows- just long enough to cover the sill, and feet away from the floor. Long curtains would have been wasteful. 

Octavia was suddenly at her side and she tilted her head around the environment, analyzing her surroundings. Indra was standing in front of the door, looking formidable as ever with her facial scars and all black outfit. Despite the fact they were standing in one of her deepest fears, she looked collected and calm. 

Once the other initiates appeared, she spoke. “We are in my childhood home, which burned to the ground when I was five. How can we survive this situation?” _ Indra’s childhood home? Indra was Abnegation? _

“Jump out the window!” Dax called out. 

“We’re on the second story,” Indra dismissed. “Not ideal, but good to keep in mind as a last resort. Other ideas?”

“We run down the stairs,” Lexa said, nodding behind Indra’s back. Indra stepped aside and opened the door, revealing a wall. The door led to nowhere. 

The fire was licking the ceiling now, and the room was growing hotter. 

Clarke looked from the thick canvas comforter to the curtains. “We put the fire out!” Without explaining, Clarke rushed forward and picked up the blanket. After a delayed moment, Octavia followed and grabbed the other corner. 

They approached the burning wall and threw the blanket up in unison, its ends catching on the simplistic metal curtain rods. The fabric seemed to swallow the flames and other initiates rushed forward to pat down, eliminating the oxygen and smothering the fire at last. 

“Good work, Clarke,” Indra said approvingly. “The fear will now change.” 

The group waited as the blackness shifted and formed into a city block. The buildings were clearly abandoned and in various states of dilapidation. Looking down, they were all dressed in the rags of the factionless. Clarke’s heart skipped a beat and panic welled in her throat despite her brain very clearly messaging this was a simulation. Clarke wasn’t _ really _ factionless. She wasn’t about to be hunted and die. 

A man walked some thirty feet away from their group and held his arms open. “Welcome Indra, to the factionless compound. Come inside, we’ve been waiting for you.” 

Suddenly, Clarke’s pocket was heavy. She looked down and a silver gun, identical to the one Bellamy used in his own fear landscape, appeared. Glancing from left to right Clarke saw each initiate had a gun. Most people were looking down as well, figuring out a weapon had been bestowed upon each of them. 

“I am afraid of being poor and factionless.” Indra’s tone was bored. “One of you must shoot this man and the fear will change.” 

The initiates murmured, none of them particularly relishing the idea of committing a murder, albiet a fake one. Octavia was the first to raise her gun and fire, the shot hitting the man directly in the chest, blood blooming over his dirty white shirt and staining it. 

The scene shifted. Clarke stood alone in a glass box, water lapping at her feet. Each of her peers were in their own boxes, arranged neatly in a circle so they could see each other’s bewildered faces. Clarke was directly across from Lexa, who already was banging and kicking the glass attempting to break it. 

Others soon joined her plan, trying to smash the glass holding them prisoner. It became clear within moments that this was not ordinary glass and wouldn’t be broken as a result of human strength. Clarke noted the pipe affixed to the floor of each chamber and deduced it must be the cause of the slow flood in her tank. 

Before consciously thinking through her decision, Clarke took off her shirt and shoved it into the pipe’s opening between her feet. The water’s progress immediately halted and after a moment, all the initiates were back in the simulation room. 

Indra was sitting up in the chair, waiting for the collective panicked breathing to slow before addressing the group. “Those were three of my nine fears. Now you understand the mechanics of the fear landscape. Any attempt to escape the fear rather than face it will be prevented, or the fear will intensify.” 

“The first round will not count toward rankings, as the serum will use it to calibrate your true fear landscape. Once you have completed the fear simulation you are excused for the day. You’ll notice the absence of several of your peers. Ontari left the Dauntless compound and is now factionless with her sister.” 

Indra barely let this news sink in before continuing. “Atom and Murphy made the stupid decision to fight one another and will rejoin the group tomorrow, without the luxury of callibrating their fear landscape. Let that be a lesson to any of those seeking vindictive personal justice.” The room was uncomfortably silent. “Octavia, with me. Dax with Lincoln and Wick follow Bellamy.” 

The three initiates stood up and Clarke settled in for a long wait, understanding Indra was moving in rank order. Once the instructors had left, pairs engaged in whispered conversations predominately speculating what their worst fears were, how many fears they would have, and how to combat them. Finn saddled over to Clarke’s side without speaking, reading her serious expression and correctly assuming she wasn’t in the mood for conversation. 

Bellamy returned first and took Bryan for his fear simulation, purposefully not glancing in Clarke’s direction. He was sure Finn was sitting next to her, and Bellamy was trying very hard not to be stupidly jealous- he had done enough of that in their brief relationship already. 

Finn left next with Indra and Clarke instantly mourned his presence. Even if they hadn’t been speaking, it was comforting to have him next to her. Finn’s attitude was always light and optimistic, despite the heaviness that usually engulfed Dauntless initiation. In another world where Bellamy didn’t exist, Clarke could see herself with Finn. 

Too bad in _ this _ world Clarke could never picture herself with anyone but Bellamy Blake. 

Ever since their first kiss, Clarke was wholly consumed by her mind and body’s response to Bellamy. And now, after surviving her attack and seeing the rawest bits of Bellamy’s inner fears, their connection was cemented. Finn’s easy smile was not even close to a threat. 

One by one the initiates were called into rooms with one of the trainers and did not return. Just as Clarke’s stomach was beginning to rumble indicating it was well past lunch time, Bellamy emerged again. “Clarke, with me.” 

She tried to keep a stupid grin off her face as she followed Bellamy, but allowed herself to smile once they were in the hallways. Clarke swung her hand closer to him and tried to capture their fingers in an embrace, but Bellamy pulled his hand out of reach. “Cameras,” he said out of the side of his mouth. 

They entered a small simulation room and Clarke instinctively crawled up the singular chair. Bellamy wiped off the temple probes with a sanitary wipe. “Your simulation will be recorded and reviewed by Dauntless leadership, is that understood?” 

Clarke stifled a gasp. _ Recorded? Was Dauntless leadership curious about what made people tick? Or were they looking for Divergents? _ Bellamy’s eyes were pained as he stuck the cool metal discs to each side of Clarke’s head. He bent over more than necessary to stick the syringe in Clarke’s neck and whispered, “good luck, princess,” in her ear. The room around her dimmed to black within moments. The last conscious thought Clarke remembered was '_be Dauntless_.’


	11. Ten Fears

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: One of Clarke's fears contains Atom and attempted sexual assault.

When Clarke opened her eyes, she was back in the familiar glass tank from Indra’s landscape.  _ Fear of drowning,  _ she thought bitterly. Clarke wondered if this fear would have surfaced if not for the terrifying stint in Bellamy’s landscape. Water started flooding the tank from the pipe by her feet and Clarke removed her shirt immediately to close the gap. 

The water level didn’t stop rising. 

True panic started clawing at Clarke’s chest. Her Dauntless method wasn’t working.  _ Shit.  _ She turned in a circle, looking desperately for something to help obstruct the pipe more fully. 

The water covered her knees. 

The floor and sides were clear, but the roof was solid. The only way out of the tank was to break the glass...but Bellamy warned her (and Indra warned him) that breaking the glass would be a Divergent response.

The water passed over Clarke’s hips. 

Clarke’s thinking was getting more scattered and her chest burned with anxiety as she contemplated a horrifying thought:  _ Was she afraid of drowning? Or was she afraid of accidentally revealing herself to be Divergent to those watching on the monitors? _

If the first, her way to face her fear was to let herself be submerged in the water and remain calm. If the second, she should break the glass to show she had nothing to hide. When the water reached her neck, Clarke’s body chose for her: she jumped to grab a pipe attached to the ceiling, swinging her legs with all her might at the glass wall. 

The glass shattered and Clarke washed down onto the floor, water carrying her into a seated position. Clarke dragged a hand over her face to wipe the water from her eyes, and when she opened them the scene shifted. 

Long black shadows formed trees and Clarke was dry on springy grass in a thick forest. A full moon cast a bluish glow over the land’s features and Clarke wondered what this fear may be.  _ Fear of the dark?  _

A small, squeaking noise drifted to Clarke from her left. She turned and couldn’t see more than a few feet in front of her, the rest of the landscape being swallowed by night. The noise grew louder and echoed as if in a large cavern. A knife was in her hand, its metal glinting off the moon’s rays. 

Clarke’s breathing grew shallow, knowing the simulation wouldn’t give her a weapon unless she was expected to use it. The noises turned into angry hums and it sounded like dozens of creatures were headed her way. Clarke rocketed to her feet and held the knife out in front of her, hands extended in either direction. 

By the time the stampede came into her view, Clarke was running. It was a horde of spiders, each roughly the size of a small bear. Their thick, hairy legs moved in jerky synchronization. Their pinchers clicked maddeningly and Clarke avoided looking back. She knew to face her fear she would have to turn around and stab one of these awful creatures, _ but god that sounded terrible.  _

Locking her jaw and sucking in a deep breath, Clarke gripped the hilt of her knife tightly in her right palm. Her lungs started screaming in exhaustion. When she felt like her pace would be compromised, Clarke turned on the spot and fell on her back in the soft forest grass. She thrusted the knife up to catch in the beast’s belly standing over her.

There was a horrible screeching noise and Clarke felt the warm, thick heat of blood running down her arms from where the knife was buried in the giant spider’s stomach. 

And in a blink the spider, the forest and the blood was gone. 

Clarke had to shield her eyes as bright sunlight beat down on her. The forest floor was now cracked concrete and small chunks of rock dug into her back. Clarke climbed to her feet and realized she was no longer in her black Dauntless uniform.

Her white shirt was a tattered and obviously dirty cast-off from Candor, while her red pants belonged to Amnity. Her gray, shapeless cardigan was from Abnegation. Clarke was factionless. Fear gripped her stomach, which she distantly supposed was the whole point of this exercise. 

A man walked out of a building across the street with his arms open. “Welcome to the factionless compound, Clarke. Come inside, we’ve been waiting for you.” 

Clarke recognized the speaker as the same man from Indra’s fear. _ “I am afraid of being poor and factionless. One of you must shoot this man and the fear will change.”  _ As Clarke remembered Indra’s words, a heavy weight settled in her right pocket. Clarke handled enough guns in training to know what they felt like. 

Without thinking about it, Clarke put her hand in her pocket and grasped the metal handle. She pulled the already cocked gun out of her pocket and barely took aim before shooting. She was sure she missed her target some thirty feet away, but the simulation changed anyway, accepting her desire to overcome her fear of factionless-ness. 

She was inside again. More specifically, she was standing in an Abnegation kitchen. Clarke took into account the familiar handmade serving spoons in a jar on the counter and deduced she wasn’t just in any Abnegation kitchen, but her family’s. 

Not knowing what else to do, Clarke sat down at the table alone. She heard footsteps approach behind her and turned her neck. 

_ Madi. _

A little taller, her hair a little longer, and her eyes much more guarded. But, it was Madi.  _ Was that what she looked like now? _

“Can I help you?” The voice was wrong, so cutting and different than how the two sisters spoke to each other throughout their childhood. 

Clarke stood up and gripped Madi’s hands in her own, not being able to resist the seduction of the simulation. “Madi, it’s me, Clarke. Your sister.”

Madi pulled her hands away. “I don’t have a sister.” 

It felt worse than a kick to broken ribs, which Clarke would gladly experience again instead of hearing those words come from Madi’s mouth. Clarke’s eyes welled up, but she also remembered this wasn’t real. She needed to find a way to combat whatever the hell fear this was.

“I’m Dauntless now, Madi. But I’ll always be your sister, and I love you.” Clarke pulled her disgusted sister in for a tight hug and then her arms were empty. 

Clarke kept her eyes shut, still feeling the empty ache of the simulated version of her ambivalent sister. She didn’t want to face another fear. Practicing with Indra and Bellamy in their fear landscapes didn’t prepare Clarke for being in her own, not when her fears were starting to turn psychological rather than physical. 

She was back in a Dauntless room, that was evident by the cavern walls and hard floors. The small space was lit with the fluorescents. An unfamiliar man was sitting in a chair and Clarke dimly remembered Bellamy’s fear of killing. But she just shot the factionless man in a previous fear landscape, clearly she had proven she wasn’t afraid of weilding a gun?

But Clarke wasn’t holding a gun. In fact, she wasn’t holding any weapons at all. 

She paced across the room to see if some secret object was hiding. But the cell was plain, dusty rock about 10 feet by 12 feet and there were not any places to discover. Clarke thought hard for a moment about what she was supposed to do when an intercom cackled to life. 

The voice was cool and feminine. “Kill him.” 

Clarke knew that was the answer, but now having it confirmed she realized the finality of her situation: she would have to kill the man with her bare hands. 

Clarke took a shaky step forward and the man was still, staring just above her left shoulder. It felt so wholly wrong to attempt to harm someone who wasn’t a threat. But, it was the dauntless way. Clarke put her hands on the man’s shoulders, like she was about to hug him rather than harm him. He remained still. 

Clarke inched her thumbs inward, feeling his hot skin under her fingers. She felt the strong thud of his pulse under her palms.  _ Ba dum… ba dum… ba dum… _

She shut her eyes and tightened her grip while the man came to life. He started to sputter and gripped Clarke’s wrists with his bloated hands, trying (not very hard) to twist her grip off of his throat. After a minute, Clarke opened her eyes, seeing a horrible purple face and bulging eyes. The black pupils were blown wide and rimmed with dark green.

Clarke didn’t think she would ever forget those eyes. Blackness swallowed her up once again.

She was wet, cold, and shivering. Clarke jammed her eyes closed, wanting nothing more than to lay down on the floor and quit this horrific exercise.  _ What if she had fifteen more fears to face? _ Indra said you could experience upwards of twenty fears, especially your first time. Clarke had only accomplished four. 

_ Bellamy only had five, _ her inner voice reasoned. She could be closer to his end of the spectrum, them both being Divergent. 

Only one way to find out. 

This time, Clarke didn’t need to open her eyes to understand where she was. The rushing water was unmistakable. Clarke was back at the chasm. She could live to be one hundred years old and still remember exactly what the water rushing in the Dauntless chasm sounded like.

Her eyes were forced open when hands grabbed her roughly and shoved her backwards. The room was too dark for Clarke to make out any features, but the stale breath reminded her of Atom’s from the night he attacked her. 

Clarke stepped quickly to the right, reversing their stance and stepping away from the chasm. Bending her knees and bracing her elbows, Clarke shoved with all her might until a tell-tale scream filled the echoing space. Her toes were met with empty air and Clarke took a hasty step back, not wanting to fall into the chasm herself. 

_ This isn’t real, _ her brain reminded her. A small sense of disappointment filled her chest, a piece of Clarke wanted revenge on Atom, in a brutal Dauntless fashion. She wanted to  _ really _ push him into the chasm. 

That was scarier than any simulation so far. 

After a blink, a dull, blue fluorescent light streamed into Clarke’s vision. Bellamy’s apartment focused in front of her. Clarke was sitting on his bed while his back was turned to her, searching for something in his closet. The detail was so accurate, it felt real. 

_ You’re in a simulation.  _

Right. Simulation. A fear simulation. What scared Clarke about Bellamy? He was the person who assuaged her fears... 

“The last I heard she was at the end of the inner train line, posted up with the other factionless.” Bellamy said to the air. He must be talking about his mother. 

“Okay, I’m sure we’ll find her.” Clarke said hesitantly, still unsure of how this scene was something to be afraid of. 

Bellamy turned back to her and his brown eyes were distant. “ _ I’ll _ find her, Clarke. You’re not coming.” 

His words felt like a punch to the gut and Clarke stood up. “What do you mean, ‘I’m not coming’?”

Simulation Bellamy shut his eyes. “It’s too dangerous, you’re staying in Dauntless. I’m going.” 

“If it’s dangerous then you need backup,” Clarke reasoned, her breathing starting to speed up. 

“I don’t want you as backup!” Bellamy shouted. “I don’t want  _ you _ , Clarke!” 

_ Oh.  _

The world seemed to tilt sideways as Clarke tried to process this information. Bellamy didn’t want her. Bellamy was leaving and not coming back. 

This was worse than drowning or spiders or being factionless or choking someone or the chasm. Because the only way to face this fear was to let Bellamy leave her, something she would never do outside of the simulation. 

_ Unless he really wanted to… _

Clarke glanced into Bellamy’s eyes and they were set in anger. No affection or intimacy lurked beneath their hard surface. He was already gone. Clarke took two steps back and gestured with her left hand to the door. 

Bellamy nodded once before throwing his black backpack over his shoulder and walking out the door. When he slammed it shut, the apartment disappeared and Clarke let out a dry sob. 

_ Please no more. _

The next light was more blinding, and even though Clarke didn’t want to, she opened her eyes. She was in the medical bay, even though no one seemed to be there with her. The reception desk was empty and the usual flurry of medical staff was absent. Clarke spun on her heel to look around at the glass rooms, all empty and neatly tidied as if waiting for an influx of patients. 

Her eyes caught a slice of color in the otherwise white and empty space, seeing one of the rooms at the very end of the hall was occupied. Clarke walked quickly toward it and then broke into a run when she recognized the man wearing loose gray clothes.

“Dad!” Clarke yelled once she threw his door open. 

It was Jake Griffin, but he was weaker and thinner than Clarke had ever seen him. Tubes were hooked up to his arms and one hung beneath his nose. Clarke clapped her hands over her mouth. “Dad…” 

If Jake heard her, he made no motion or sound to affirm Clarke of this fact. Given the lazy beeping of his heart monitor, Clarke gathered he was on the brink of death. Panic started to squeeze Clarke and she walked around the small room, pulling open any cabinets or drawers looking for any medical tools she could use. A magic, special, Dauntless medicine, perhaps, to make him better. Like the one they gave her to heal her ribs for Visitor’s Day. 

The last day she saw her father in real life. 

The beeping slowed and Clarke started crying. She hastily wiped her tears before sitting in the one chair next to the bed. 

Clarke distantly remembered Bellamy’s fear landscape, where he had to watch Octavia die... _ “I have to watch. If I shut my eyes the scene replays.”  _

Clarke had been angry with Dauntless then, watching Bellamy’s horror at Octavia’s fake death, but it was nothing compared to how she felt now watching her own father die slowly.  _ For what? To prove that she was better than her fears? To get a good time and move up the rankings?  _ What utter bullshit. 

When Jake did shut his eyes for the last time, Clarke felt the familiar metallic tang of blood from biting her cheek too hard. She was livid. Screw Dauntless. Screw the faction system. Screw psychologically torturing people into the perfect soldiers and branding it as “training.” This shouldn’t be a part of any training, for any role, ever.

Clarke was now back in her dorm, the lighting similar to the medical bay. She sat on her bed and realized both of her normal neighbors were gone. In fact, no one else seemed to be in the dormitory. 

“Alone at last, huh Stiff?” It was Atom’s disgusting voice again. Clarke took comfort in the fact she pushed him into the chasm only several scenes ago, reinforcing that this Atom was nothing more than a simulation. 

“Fuck off, Atom.” Clarke spat. 

He walked in front of her bed and sat down on Octavia’s mattress opposite of her. “Did you know my mom is on the discipline committee?”

Clarke kept her mouth shut, burying her tongue between her teeth. Atom stood up and strutted to Clarke’s bed, sitting on the opposite end of her mattress. 

“She is. Which means, if a claim came up against me… It would be ignored.” He reached over and traced one bent finger down Clarke’s arm. Her skin broke out in goosebumps. The small blonde hairs on the back of Clarke’s neck stood at attention.

“Fascinating, what they need to resort to in order to question real criminals and traitors though. Did you know they have a paralysis serum? They only give it to prisoners who fight off interrogators…” 

Fear made Clarke sit up straighter. Her anger was slowly dissipating as she paid more attention to the simulation and a glint of silver caught her eye. She was too late. Atom stuck her arm with a needle, and Clarke felt a slow freezing set over her blood, making her unable to move. 

“That’s better,” Atom leered. He moved his body until his right side was flush with Clarke’s left and turned his head to kiss her shoulder through her black t-shirt. 

_ Think, Clarke, think… _ What would a Dauntless person do once they were immobilized to stop someone from attacking them? Atom pressed in, kissing her neck and Clarke wanted to throw up. 

_ It’s not real. He’s not really touching me, _ Clarke repeated in her head over and over again to keep herself calm. But Clarke took her thinking a step further. _ If this wasn’t real, then how could she be actually paralyzed? She wasn’t stabbed with a paralysis serum in real life, so…  _

Clarke slapped Atom across the face and shoved him off the bed with her legs. The scene changed and Clarke had no idea if she had done the Dauntless or Divergent thing, but she did know Atom was no longer breathing on her and she was happy for that. Her dormant anger lit again inside her: Let Dauntless be afraid of her. Let them come for her. 

The Erudite torture chamber was familiar at this point. Clarke remembered vividly the pain that was inflicted on her, real or not, in Bellamy’s fear landscape. This time, he was strapped to the table and she was bound to the chair. 

“Are you Divergent, Clarke?” Becca asked with the same red-rimmed lips and impeccably coiffed dark hair. She would be beautiful if she wasn’t so terrifying.

“I don’t know what that means,” Clarke said. 

Becca administered Bellamy a shock, and his body twisted away from the source of pain. He grunted, but refrained from calling out in pain. Clarke knew this whole situation wasn’t real, but she didn’t enjoy seeing Bellamy in clear agony. 

“Let’s try again, shall we? Did your aptitude test come back with a preference for more than one faction?” 

“That’s impossible,” Clarke said coolly. 

This time, Bellamy did scream. His whole back arched and his hands became fists trying to pull away from the restraints. Clarke forced herself not to look away. 

“What do you know about the Allegiant?” 

“Who are they?” Clarke asked, her voice shaking (only a little). 

Bellamy’s screams filled the room again. Becca kept the charge going longer than before and when he was finally released, Bellamy whimpered. 

“Are you planning on leaving the Dauntless compound?” Becca asked, unperturbed by the man in obvious pain on the table. 

Clarke’s eyes flickered over to Bellamy. He kept his eyes shut, in large part, Clarke suspected, to not make her feel worse about the situation. “Strap me to the table instead,” Clarke demanded. 

Becca laughed. “You’re not in a position to be bargaining, Clarke.” 

“Strap me to the table instead,” Clarke repeated. 

Becca pushed her remote again. Bellamy started convulsing with pain. A deep yell started in his throat and echoed around the room. Clarke tried to get up but the bindings kept her firmly in place. 

“STOP IT!” 

Becca smiled and turned a small dial, increasing the intensity of Bellamy’s pain. There was only one way Clarke could think to stop Bellamy’s torture: “I’M DIVERGENT, KILL ME! KILL ME! LEAVE HIM ALONE!”

Clarke was still screaming when the room disappeared. 

She was standing in the city center, but there was a dark, orange glow over the whole scene. In the distance, the tall Candor and Erudite headquarter buildings were on fire. Small, scattered flames licked cars or businesses, the streets covered in smashed rock and litter. 

To her right was Bellamy and to her left, Octavia. They were both outfitted in the thick black armor of Dauntless soldiers and Clarke turned to see hundreds of others behind them. Not only Dauntless, but white spots of Candor, the red of Amity and even a few gray-robed elders. Bellamy took a few steps forward and addressed the crowd. 

“We’ve got the Erudites cornered! This last fight will secure a free future for Arkadia! I know it’s been hard for all of us. We’ve all lost someone we loved. But, we’ve all felt the injustice in our society for too long to let grief stop us now. We are one. We are Allegiant!” Bellamy held up his gun and the crowd cheered. Clarke smiled with pride at Bellamy taking his natural place as a leader. 

“For Arkadia!” He yelled, charging forward. The crowd echoed his cry before doing the same and pushing around one another. Clarke tried to keep pace with Bellamy and Octavia, but they were faster than her. Once they turned the street corner, the deep blue rows of Erudite troops were visible, but they were much smaller in number. 

Then planes started roaring overhead and dropped big silver bullets that exploded once they touched the ground. Clarke had never seen a bomb before, but she was sure that’s what Erudite was now unloading on the Allegiant troops. 

An explosion boomed to Clarke’s right and she saw a group of people fly in every direction. Clarke looked around wildly, still placing Bellamy and Octavia in front of her by 100 feet, fighting side by side. The siblings, even in a simulation, were a fearsome thing to behold. 

Clarke ran ahead, dodging fighting pairs and stray gunfire until she fit neatly into Bellamy’s side. He looked down at her briefly and smiled. “Hi, princess.” 

Over Bellamy’s right shoulder popped up an Erudite army member in dark blue. He pulled up his long gun and aimed for Bellamy’s head. Clarke couldn’t think, she couldn’t breathe. It didn’t feel like a simulation, she couldn’t remember it wasn’t real. All she could do was act. 

A terrifying “No!” ripped from her throat and before Bellamy could move, Clarke shoved his shoulders down with every bit of force she could muster. 

The gunman’s aim was true and when he pulled the trigger, a shot buried itself in Clarke’s chest. The pain exploded through her torso, sharper and more concentrated than when she broke her ribs. It felt like a punch directly to her heart. 

Before the simulation faded, the gunman stepped closer and Clarke saw the glint of Murphy’s eyes behind the visor. 

Clarke was still gripping her chest when she woke up on the white padded chair. Bellamy was by her side in a moment. He pulled the nodes off her temples and kissed her forehead. “It’s over, it’s over. You did it.”

Clarke’s arms hung limply at her sides, refusing to believe she was back in reality.  _ What if she blinked and saw Bellamy die? What if she only thought she was out of the simulation? _

Bellamy seemed to sense Clarke’s disorientation and he kept murmuring reassurances in her ear. “Hey princess, it’s okay. You’re back. You’re all done.” After a minute or so, Clarke tentatively lifted her arms and placed them around Bellamy’s firm arms. 

“That’s it,” Bellamy kissed the top of Clarke’s head.

Clarke pulled her legs over the side of the table and felt the world sway. “Don’t move too fast,” Bellamy warned. Clarke nodded in comprehension and tentatively hopped onto the floor. 

Once she did, Bellamy retreated behind the computer. Now that he wasn’t comforting her, his face shifted into concentration as he clicked away on different buttons. Clarke took several slow steps before coming to stand next to him. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m deleting your footage.” Bellamy said without looking away from the screen. 

Clarke sucked in a breath. “Why?”

“Because your first fear was a fear of showing your Divergence. And then to beat it, you did.” 

Clarke shifted through the jumbled mess of her fear landscape memories. “The tank… I broke the glass.”

Bellamy nodded. “And in the interrogation. And how you fought off Atom’s paralytic, although can’t say I wasn’t glad about that…” he added quietly. 

Clarke knew she should start to feel some sort of anxiety around Dauntless finding out her secret, but her stores of adrenaline were depleted. Maybe it would be better if they found out now and she was taken… less of a chance of them finding her with Bellamy. 

“Shit.” Bellamy banged his first on the table and then ran his hands over his face before turning to Clarke. 

“What is it?” Clarke felt she already knew the answer. 

Bellamy took two large steps toward her and put his large hands around her upper arms. “I need you to go back to the dorms, grab any food or supplies you can from the Hub without drawing attention to yourself. Pack all your clothes. Remember where the first party was? The night we kissed? Hide yourself in one of the old trucks. I’ll get everyone else together and meet you there.” 

Clarke shook her head. “Bellamy, slow down. What do you mean? We’re supposed to meet later-”

His eyes were wild as he cut her off. “Clarke, I can’t erase your recording. Leadership will find out you’re Divergent any minute. We need to get you out of Dauntless. Tonight.” 


End file.
